The Hidden Swann
by AricaelMalone
Summary: Annalee Swann's life is shattered into a million pieces when the most notorious pirates attack her home town, kidnapping her older sister. In shock and unsure, she, on a whim, takes the advice of a local pirate and takes off in pursuit. What began as a simple rescue mission turns into much more as an ancient dark curse is revealed...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Many of you know the tale of Captain Jack Sparrow, the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas. Of his adventures with the blacksmith, Will Turner and the beautiful, Elizabeth Swan. Now, this legend has been passed down for decades. Most of it is true. Only, the storytellers forgot one tiny little detail… me. My name is Annalee Swan: The youngest daughter of Governor Swan of Port Royal, the little sister of Elizabeth Swan and the key to the true story. The story that will change the story. Here is the truth._

As I hear the laughter grow louder from my hiding spot, under a wagon, I realize what a fool I had been. Sneaking out from under Father's nose was one thing; following the cheers of carousers was another.

"Hey! I've found her!" A man kneels down beside me, his mouth turned up in a gruesome smirk. He is soon joined by his other friend who keeps trying to "lure" me out with kissing sounds and whistles.

I cram myself as far away from them as possible, the stench of the recently consumed alcohol breezes by forcing me to swallow back my dinner.

I wait, praying that the men would soon leave. They don't but I see my chance of escape when the men, losing their balance, fall over each other.

Scurrying out from under the wagon, I dart into a nearby alley. Finding no one following me, I sneak back and look around the corner and sigh with relief. The men are still on the ground, passed out.

Afraid of encountering more drunkards, I make my way towards the closest haven, the fort, to wait until all the men keel over.

Hearing voices behind me, I panic. I forgot to take in account the other four drunkards.

I dive into an alcove just as the men pass by. I peer out and just manage to see the men turn left at the next crossroad, stumbling the entire way. I sigh, relieved. That road leads all the way back to the square. It is unlikely that they would backtrack to the fort.

I continue to follow the road until I reach a small entrance beside the gate to the fort, marked "Servants". I shake the handle finding it locked. Thankfully, before leaving the house, I managed to sneak a servant's key off of the special hook in the kitchen where all the extra keys are kept. I take the key out of my pocket and just as I am about to fit it in the lock, the two men that had been walking towards the square appear around the corner. I jump and let out a yelp.

_Where did they come from?_

They race towards me and I frantically unlock the door and rush in at the last second. I quickly lock the door behind me and lean on it to catch my breath.

"What do you think you're doing?" I jump at the voice and turn around, my fists clenched and ready.

I chuckle nervously and sigh with relief at the familiar face.

"Captain Norrington, it's you. Please, don't frighten me like that again."

"Annalee, what do you think you're doing, being out in the town this late at night? You could be seriously injured with those drunkards around. Besides, it isn't proper."

"It's Anna," I correct him. "And I… I needed fresh air."

"Of course you did." He responds, sounding slightly sarcastic, "And of course the balcony was out of the question."

I ignore the comment, unable to think of a retort.

I unlock and open the door a few inches, seeing no one around. I turn back towards the Captain and curtsy.

"Thank you, Captain Norrington. It was a pleasure to chat with you," I tell him hoping he hears the playful sarcasm dripping off my tongue, "I will be on my way now."

He gives me an amused look, noticing my little attitude. "Absolutely not; I will send some guards to escort you just in case those ruffians appear again."

"I couldn't accept this offer. Your men are asleep. I would hate for them to wake up for such a petty reason." I tell him, keeping up the charade of extreme respect, making it obvious that respect is the least on my mind.

"Nonsense, I will only be a minute. Please stay where you are." He says walking away.

"Captain Norrington," I call, and he turns back to me.

"Yes, Annalee."

"Father, doesn't need to know about this. It isn't a big deal." I tell him with a small smile, dropping both the act of respect and sarcasm.

"About what?" He responds looking completely innocent. Then, returning my smile, he heads back towards the soldier barracks. When he is out of sight, I open the door, cringing when it squeaks loudly.

Thankfully, the captain does not reappear and I slip out. I waste no time getting on the road to home, only hiding once as a drunken man stumbles around trying to find his way home.

I quickly slip through the gates leading to my home, thankful that I had left them slightly open. Now, I wouldn't have to grow through the agony of cringing every time they creaked, as I did earlier.

As I reach the servants kitchen entrance of our manor, I slip the sack off my back. Thankfully, my cape and the darkness had concealed it from Captain Norrington.

I place my sack under a nearby bush, making sure it is well hidden. I then quietly open the door leading to the kitchen.

I slowly creep through the kitchen and into the dining hallway. After taking a few steps down the hallway, I stub my toe against a small stand, below a mirror.

You would think that after living around half my life in a house, I would know where everything was.

I quickly walked toward the entrance where the stairs where located, walking once into another small table and once into a wall, telling myself over and over again to take the pain and that a candle was out of the question. Anyone awake would probably be curious as to why a candle was floating around in mid-air.

I slowly made my way up the mahogany steps, stopping to hear if anyone was awake every time they squeaked.

I quickly make my way to the chamber I share with Elizabeth, my older sister. When I reach the door, I place my ear against the door. After a few moments of complete silence, I quietly let myself in. I start taking off my cape when a candle is lit.

"I see you've been out again." Lizzie says nonchalantly.

I groan, angry with myself for forgetting how silent she can be when she wants. When we were younger, she would always win the hide and seek games, sometimes staying hidden for hours on end.

"You do realize that you could have been injured."

"Lizzie," I say turning to her, "I am not a child anymore. I can take care of myself. I don't need you mothering me."

"Anna," She says, her voice changing from accusing to pleading, "When will you stop sneaking out? Don't tell me this is the first time you do. I've noticed your disappearance before. I just hoped you would come to your senses and stop. I guess I was wrong."

She sighs, and I feel slightly bad for disappointing her. "What do you even do so late at night? Father will find out soon and then you'll have no freedom whatsoever. "

"Father will not find out." I lay down on my bed, disregarding the fact that I am still fully dressed. "Unless you tell him."

Lizzie joins me on the bed and makes me face her. "Anna, I know you. You wouldn't just wander around town for the fun of it. And you wouldn't do anything stupid or dangerous. If it isn't anything wrong, why can't you tell me?"

I sigh. What I am doing isn't wrong in my eyes but Father would be horrified if he knew. I don't know how Lizzie will take it but I can't keep the secret and her trust.

"Lizzie, you know the money that Father gives us once a week?"

She nods once, curiosity burning in her eyes, and I continue.

"Well, once a week, for the past couple months, I have been taking the money to a man that lives in a little cave a ways down the beach. He used to be, um," _Should I tell her?_"Well, he used to be a pirate."

Lizzie's eyes grow at this information. Father detests pirates and wouldn't mind seeing all of them hanged. He has tried over the years to instill this dislike into us but so far it hasn't worked except for the fact that Lizzie is partially frightened of them

I continue, "Every week I give him the money and a bit of food in exchange for this." I hold up a book.

"You give him all that money and food for that small thing?"

"Well, no. I give him the money for the book but I give him food because he is really nice."

Lizzie gives me a shocked look.

"Lizzie! How dare you even think that?" I slap her on the arm. "I haven't done anything with him. He's older than father for crying out loud!"

Lizzie gives a little chuckle and sits beside me on my bed.

"What is so amazing about these books?"

I just hand the book to her.

"Anna, pirates? Really?" She says, sounding a little disappointed in me. "Making deals with a pirate behind Father's back is bad enough. Do you really have to read about them too? How many of these do you have anyways?"

I quickly climb onto my night table and take a small box from the top of my four poster bed. I sit back down beside Elizabeth and open the wooden box, revealing almost two dozen books.

Lizzie just sits silently before reaching into the box and taking out a small book titled "To Love a Pirate."

"Um, Lizzie," I start.

"Mm-hmm?" She says, slowly flipping through a few pages of the book.

"Please don't tell Father about the pirate. I can probably deal with being unable to visit him or reading the books, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Father found out and had the old pirate hanged."

Lizzie looks up from the book and gives a quick one armed hug.

"Don't worry," She reassures me, "I won't tell Father about the pirate. I might even let the books slide if you do me a favor."

I smile at her, relieved, "I'll do anything! Well, almost anything. I won't do things that are disgusting or crazy or dangerous. Actually, I'd probably do anything in those categories. At least don't make me do anything super girly, or proper, or ladylike. I have a couple weeks left of freedom before my coming out party. I mean, these are the last few days before I will start attending parties, and luncheons and stuff and I don't want to spend them doing something I probably will be doing for the rest of my life. The fun time of life is soon over and I don't want to waste my time doing things that are—"

"Anna." Lizzie says sharply, pulling me out of my rambling.

"Yes?" I look at her expectantly.

"—if you do me a favor." She repeats, "The favor is letting me read some of these stories."

"Oh." I say, an embarrassed grin slowly taking form on my face. Sometimes I just can't stop the rambling.

"Of course." I tell her and she gives me a smile before returning to her side of the room "To Love a Pirate".

She gets into her bed and lights the candle on her night table. She re-opens the book and I can tell that she is already sucked into the fabulous adventure of pirates and damsel's in distress and treasure.

"Thank you." I whisper to her.

After a small "Mm-hmm" from Elizabeth, I quickly change into my nightgown and get under my covers. Turning away from the light, I close my eyes and enter my adventure filled dreams of pirates and treasures.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The day starts like every other. The maids enter and proceed to open the curtains and windows. Then we dress into our soft colored day dresses. As the maids help me pull on my mint green ruffled dress and assist Lizzie into her strawberry colored bow adorned dress, we are given the schedule of the day.

After a quick breakfast in the sun room, I will start the day with Latin, Greek, and mathematic lessons, while Lizzie endures piano and flute before getting ready for the garden luncheon she is sharing with Katherine and Belinda Attlee, the banker's daughters.

After a simple lunch alone in the sun room, I will continue my studies but this time in piano, flute, and etiquette. Lizzie during this time will take her daily rounds of the gardens and the town, and then finish the afternoon with a quiet time reading and embroidering in the sitting room, right off our bed chambers.

Before having dinner, I will join Elizabeth in the sitting room for an hour before we spend the last half hour preparing ourselves for supper which the Swann family will be sharing with Captain James Norrington and Gillette, the Captain's right hand man.

When the maids leave us at the breakfast table, Lizzie lets out a large sigh, "This is so tedious. We do this every day. I can't wait until I am married."

I stare at her, unbelieving.

"Only for the freedom it brings." She says quickly giving me the "duh" look. "Look at us. We've been doing the same thing ever since I can remember."

"Just think of how I feel." I tell her, spreading butter over a toast. "Father won't even let me attend the dances until I am sixteen. I can't take walks like you and I certainly cannot have luncheon with anyone.

"You want to spend an entire hour with Katherine and Belinda?"

"Maybe yes, Maybe no. " I tell her, "I mean, they aren't too bright or proper, or pretty, or anything good at all but they're fun to laugh at, with their ridiculous feathered hats and the way they 'sway' when they walk. They're like overstuffed peacocks."

I take a sip of water, "Besides, just wait a couple weeks and then we'll have the same schedule and everything will be double the fun. We'll "spice" the chef's food, and "accidentally" drop some garden toad into Mrs. Hatcham's shoes."

"Anna!" Lizzie gasps with amused shock. "You wouldn't dare."

A few moments pass.

"All right, you would dare." Lizzie says, slightly giggling behind her napkin but quickly becomes serious.

"Anna, I've been meaning to ask. What will you do about your, um, nightly escapades, when you turn sixteen?"

"What on earth do you mean?" I ask, biting into a jam covers slice of bread.

"You know you can't continue them after your coming out party. Father will have you watched day and night for a very long time. That is what happened to me."

"I thought coming out would be fun and I would be faced with freedom."

"It is fun but Father doesn't want you meeting anyone, err, below you and falling in love and ruining your chances in marrying into the high society. So he will probably have you watched closely for the next nine months or so until he is confident that he can completely trust you."

"What about you?" I ask her slightly accusingly. "Why aren't the hound dogs at your side all the time?"

"It's been over two years. Besides, Father knows I won't act on impulse and marry the first man that promises me adventure and a life of freedom."

I make her a face at the snide remark about my taste in men just before Mrs. Hatcham enters the room.

"Girls, your tutors are ready for you."

Following the housekeeper we end up at the bottom of the stairs, where we separate. Lizzie enters the parlor and I go upstairs to our sitting room to begin Latin with Ms. Redding.

I enter the room where my books have been set on the table and Mrs. Redding stands beside it, her hands folded and her face set in a permanent smile.

"Annalee, how are you feeling today?"

"Fine," I mumble and drop myself into a nearby chair, my mood already completely ruined after seeing her.

"That is wonderful." Mrs. Redding replies through her gritted teeth and sits down beside me. "Let's start with Latin. More specifically, its history."

_Oh, joy._

After an hour of learning about the Classical Age of Latin, we move on to Greek Phonology which we "have fun investigating" for another hour. Then we start mathematics. For the past few weeks, trigonometry has been our battle.

"There." Mrs. Redding says, relieved and closing the mathematic book at noon, precisely one hour after we started, her face pale and tired but her smile, ever so bright, plastered onto her face.

I get up from my seat, and without a word, head downstairs to the sun room where a small lunch has been laid out.

I take my seat and proceed to eat from platter upon platter of chicken soup, fried fish, baked potatoes, warm bread, and steamed vegetables.

In the back ground I can here Katherine, Belinda, and Elizabeth in the garden, laughing and chatting the hour away.

I quickly finish my meal and make my way to the parlor where, from a window, I can watch my older sister and her guests eat and "enjoy" each other's company.

I sit down on the window seat, and grab the book lying on a nearby table, "Northanger Abbey". I curl up beside the window, my knees to my chest and the book on my legs.

I spend the next thirty minutes of the lunch hour, half reading and have spying on the girls. Katherine does most of the talking and Belinda, most of the laughing. Elizabeth sits there, obviously uncomfortable. She smiles when proper but uses up most of her attention on her meal.

I occasionally laugh at something Katherine or Belinda does. They aren't outright funny or even amusing with what they say but I find the way they act to be quiet entertaining.

I giggle softly as Belinda, for some strange reason, pretends to faint off her chair and to the ground, and then jumps right back up, her hat lopsided and her hair in a mess.

The lunch hour passes much too quickly and before I know it, Mrs. Hatcham is escorting me to the parlor where Mr. Kemmp is seated.

In his hands, Mr. Kemmp holds a music book which he hands to me. I take it and sit down on the piano bench. I proceed to sight read half a page of the book before my teacher stops me. We spend the next hour and a half exploring technique and practicing the three pieces that I am currently working on.

Then, without a break, we move on to my flute lesson in which we do exactly the same thing for another hour and a half.

When Ms. Avilly arrives for my lesson in etiquette, I am in a terrible mood. Outside the sun is shining and there is no cloud in sight. A slight breeze blows across Port Royal cooling everything to a perfect temperature. It is a perfect day and yet, here I am, inside, doing studies while Lizzie is most likely taking a nice stroll in the gardens or more likely visiting the small shops in the center of town.

"Annalee! No slouching." Ms. Avilly says, briskly entering the room. I slowly straighten my back, keeping one eye on my teacher to see how long I can drag my motion out before she does something about it.

"When told to do something, one must do it quickly but gracefully." She says sharply, tapping my back with the ruler she carries around until it is straight and then my chin to lift it.

Ms. Avilly then grabs a chair and puts directly in front of me before taking a seat.

"With your coming out party only two weeks away we have so much work to do." She says.

I just glare at her. I am not so bad that I would need "so much work". Sure my posture is equivalent to the hunchback of Notre Dames' and I don't know when to shut my mouth but… all right, I am pretty bad and I don't want to disgrace Father at my coming out party.

I sigh, "All right Ms. Avilly. What would you have me do?"

Taken aback, her eyes widen and then dart around as if expecting a prank. She quickly recovers though, her lips pursed and her mood obviously becoming worse, as if she were angry with me for being unpredictable.

She soon has me walking precariously around the room with three books on my head, slowly adding one more at a time until I teeter, sending them to the ground.

The next hour sees me practicing serving tea, what conversations are proper at a diner, and learning the proper way to eat a four course supper: which forks to use, which spoons to use, and what foods go in what plates.

When the hour is finished, I slowly drag myself upstairs into the sitting room. There, I drop myself onto a chair.

"What are you doing?" Lizzie asks from the other side of the room where she was quietly reading, all curled up on the window seat.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I ask her more harshly than I intended. "I am slouching."

Thankfully, Lizzie doesn't seem to be taken aback by my attitude.

"I can see that. What I meant was: Why aren't you getting ready for you fitting?"

"Fitting? What fitting?" I manage to drool out of my mouth, completely unaware of the words coming out my either of our mouths.

"The fitting for your gown for the party. It was moved from tomorrow to today."

"No one told me that." I say, still slouched on the chair, determined that nothing is going to move me for the next hour.

"You should probably strip down to your bottom petticoats. The Mrs. Pirren will be here any minute."

I groan and slide myself off the chair and onto the ground. I then start dragging myself towards the door leading to the bedroom. I can feel Lizzie's eyes on me and I hear a small giggle.

"You look ridiculously enormous when you move like that." She says.

"Good." I reply sluggishly, "I was going for the inflated walrus look. Didn't you know it's all the rage in London?"

This gets an outright laugh from Lizzie just as I reach the door and swing it open. I get up and, without even hiding behind the dressing screen I undress, not really caring if anyone would enter and see me in such inappropriate attire.

After taking off the dress and several layers of petticoats, I slip on my robe before returning to the sitting room where the tailor, Mrs. Pirren is setting up the stand and her sewing and fitting equipment.

"Annalee, it's been so long. How have you been?" Mrs. Pirren says wrapping me in an enormous hug.

I hug my old nanny back and smile slights, my mood already improving.

"I've been okay except for the fact that my etiquette teacher is doubling her efforts, trying to make me presentable before the party."

"You can't blame her. This is one of the most important days in your life. Mess up on your coming out party and don't be surprised if you stay an old spinster for the rest of your life. Mess up on that day and you'll probably regret it for the rest of your life. " Mrs. Pirren says, before going into a short pause, "But don't worry, Anna. You'll do just fine."

Even though her words make me nervous and suddenly very anxious, I know that she means well.

Besides, she is right. Daniela Montrose, a local merchant's daughter, made an absolute fool of herself at her coming out party after she used absolutely no manners and was rude to some guests. She is now twenty eight and hasn't even courted.

I step up onto the stand and watch as Mrs. Pirren goes through roles upon roles of cloth, showing different ones to me.

"Surprise me." I tell her after I notice that she is getting worried and slightly flustered after I say "Maybe" to the twentieth role.

She immediately brightens and leaves the fabric alone, telling me that she wants the dress to be a complete surprise. She quickly takes my measurements and then calls for Beeker, our butler, to come and aid her with carrying all her equipment downstairs and into the coach that brought her here from the other side of town.

We quickly say goodbye, knowing that we'll see each other again soon for a couple more fittings and then for the party.

"That went well." Lizzie says not even looking up from where she has been reading the whole time.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask her, slowly reverting back to my previous mood.

"All I am saying is that I am surprised with how you acted. You were in a really bad mood before."

"Yes, well, Mrs. Pirren is one of the only nice people I know and I don' think she deserved to see me in a bad mood."

"No one deserves that." Lizzie says, a small smile tugging on her lips.

I ignore her and go back to my room, calling behind me, "We should probably start getting ready for supper. We only have a half hour before the Captain and Gillette will be here.

Lizzie immediately jumps up and rushes to the room where two maids are waiting for us, holding up our dresses for the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As Lizzie and I slowly make our way down the steps, we can hear Father and our guests already in the dining room, their voices softly drifting through the hallway and at the entrance, separating down the different passages, only a small portion of it reaching out ears.

Just before entering the dining room, we stop in front of a large full length mirror to get an overall look of ourselves.

Lizzie is radiant in a violet gown, simple and elegant with only small ruffles on her sleeves, pearls outlining the boat neckline and bows adorning the front of her gown until her waist. The bottom of her gown is split in two exposing a fake under dress, only one shade lighter than the rest of the gown. Her hair is worn curled and up, under a small cap decorated with large dark purple roses and small cream birds made of fabric.

My dress is a soft olive green with large cream ruffles made of tulle adorning the ends of the tight three quarter length sleeves. Smaller cream ruffles trace the square neckline and large simple buttons, also cream colored, follow my spine. The front of the dress, the chest and stomach, is styled in a corseted way with cream ribbons criss-crossing until finishing at my waist with a side bow and the remaining ribbons cascading down. Cream colored thread has been interwoven into the hem of my dress. My hair is clipped back at either side with cream flowered clips and the large curls finish their descent at my shoulders.

Satisfied with our appearance, Lizzie and I enter the dining room.

Across the large room, we see Father, Captain Norrington and Gillette seated and awaiting the meal. We slowly make our way to them and take our seats, Lizzie beside the Captain and in front of me, and me beside Gillette. Father sits at the head of the table with the other two men at his side.

"Ah, finally! We were wondering how long it was going to take." Gillette says good naturedly, but I just glare at him and he returns to his wine.

Father gestures to the maid standing in the corner and she disappears through a door which leads to the kitchen.

The men converse for a few more minutes before the food starts appearing.

For the first course, we are served a light soup made of onions. In the soup, a slice of a baguette is placed with melted cheese over top.

Next the servers bring us plates with exactly four oysters, raw of course and a small cup of some sort of cream to dip the oysters in. I stare at the gooey animals before making a face and pushing them away. A server quickly picks the plate up and whisks it away.

"What do you think, Annalee?" Captain Norrington asks, leaning back in his chair.

"Pardon?" I say, carefully sipping at my glass of wine.

"What do you think we should do about pirates? Your Father, Gillette and I think that hanging them is the best way to go. Your sister on the other hand thinks that we should carefully dissect every man's motives, the cause for his piracy and his true nature before making any decisions. Obviously, this is impossible and too time consuming."

I quickly formulate what I should say not entirely sure of what Father's response will be.

"I think that pirates have the right to a fair trial." I say, slowly. "And I do think that if they murder or harm anyone in any way they should be punished the proper way. I agree with Lizzie on one point, though. I believe that we should truly dig deep to find out the man's motives. For all we know, he could have killed someone to save his own life or someone he cares about. And I completely disagree with your point on hanging all of them. Some of them might only be guilty of theft or some other petty crime. Speaking of theft," I say, now faster and more forceful. "I don't think it is right, charging pirates with theft. If we say a man is guilty of theft by force, then so is the government with every tax they collect."

Father looks up from his food, "Annalee, what a thing to say. You know that tax is crucial for a government to work."

James Norrington just stares at me as if trying to dissect my every thought, motive, and belief.

I don't say anything, and the conversation moves on to the two merchant ships from London that docked a couple days ago.

Two platters soon arrive, one of fish and one of pork, and the main course starts. Father carves the pork and the Captain, the fish, then passing the plates around the table, we serve ourselves.

For the rest of the evening, the conversation is light, finding us laughing quite a few times.

Gillette and Father had spent time trading stories, Father of me when I had been younger and Gillette when he had been a boy.

More than a couple of times, I find myself color at some of the ridiculous things I have done.

I admit, some of the things Father spoke of me where not of my best moments, but they were years ago and they were pretty funny.

He reminded Lizzie and me of the time where my nanny and I had planted a few plants outdoors. Mrs. Pirren had told me that for a seed to grow, water, soil, and light from the sun was needed.

Around a week later, a small crate of oranges had arrived on a merchant ship. Father had given Lizzie and me and orange to share and after I finished my half, I started wondering what would happen since I had eaten a couple seeds. I decided to find out so I got myself a glass of water, and went outside. I somehow managed to swallow a small pinch of dirt before drinking the water. Father and Mrs. Pirren had found me a couple hours later, sitting on the grass with my mouth wide open, trying to let the sun into my stomach.

At this story, the entire table erupted in laughter which lasted at least a couple minutes.

I just sat in my chair, my face as red a cherry, trying to look angry at the laughter but unable to as a smile threatened to form on my face.

Now, as we are saying goodbye to the Captain and Gillette at the door, I wonder why I was not looking forward to dinner. It had been fun.

Father kisses Lizzie and I on the cheek before we head upstairs to get ready for bed.

I grab my skirts and lift them as I jog up the stairs, anxious to get out of these high heels and the stuffy dress and into my soft nightgown.

In my bedroom, I quickly get out of my dress and let it slip to the floor, standing in the room with only my petticoats. I slip off my shoes, groaning as my ankle are finally let free from the cage.

Sitting on my bed, I try to rub some feeling back into my feet. I only have myself to blame for my pain. Mrs. Hatcham had asked me if I needed a new pair of shoes and instead of enduring trying on at least a dozen pairs of shoes, I lied and said that my old shoes fit me like a glove.

Lizzie enters the room, having been the proper lady, walking quietly up the staircase instead of stomping and tripping over her feet like I did.

A maid enters after her and quickly picks up my dress, still on the floor. She then proceeds to take off Lizzie's cap that had been pinned to her hair and brush the long light brown strands. She then helps Lizzie undress and put on her nightgown.

I just grab my nightgown and disappear behind the dressing screen. I unclip my hair and run my fingers through it before changing, leaving also my petticoats on the ground which the maid picks up and puts away in a wardrobe.

When the maid leaves, Lizzie and I get into our own beds.

"So…" I say after a few minutes of silence. "What did you think of the evening?"

"It was okay," She replies, "Sorry, Anna. I am not really in the mood for talking. I'm so exhausted."

"Okay." I say but after a few moments I can't resist, "What did you think of the Captain and Gillette?"

"They were all right." She answers, trying not to sound encouraging of my attempt at conversation.

I nod my head. "Did you like the Captain?"

She sighs, exasperated, and sits up. "Yes, he was nice. Can I go to sleep now?"

"No." I announce, turning to her. "I have something to say, and you'll probably not like it."

"What is it?" she asks, sounding intrigued but her face betrays her nervousness.

She quickly walks over to my bed and takes a seat, her eyes expectant.

"I overheard something this evening that I probably shouldn't." I start.

She just stares at me, nodding her head for me to continue.

"When I went looking for Tula to help with my hair," I continue, referring to one of the maids. "I heard men talking downstairs. I was surprised since we weren't expecting anyone for another half hour. I followed the voices and found myself in front of Father's study. I know I shouldn't have but I put my ear against the door and listened. It was Father speaking with Captain Norrington. I only overheard a few minutes but they were enough." I sigh, knowing what I say will probably hurt her in some way. "It turns out that Norrington might become a Commodore soon. And he and Father were discussing some possibilities concerning his future."

Lizzie doesn't move; her eyes don't even blink.

"Continue." She says uneasily.

"They were discussing marriage and your name sort of came up." I say quickly, trying to get it over with.

"Anna, it isn't a secret that Father wants the Captain and me to possibly marry. It's pretty much a matter of when. I guess they were just discussing the best possible time for the proposition, the engagement party, and the wedding."

"But you don't love him." I tell her.

She looks down at her hands, silently agreeing with me.

"You don't even like him." I add playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're right." She says, "I don't. But I don't fit into this equation. What Father wants, Father gets. It's the least I can do for him since he has been raising us for almost a decade."

"Raising us?" I raise an eyebrow. "More like hiring nannies."

"You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean but even so, you shouldn't sacrifice your future for Father to be happy for only some time. Whatever you decide, it will be forever."

"Is there something I can do?" I ask, a small smile forming on my face. "Like scaring him off."

"Don't even think about it." Lizzie says threateningly.

"But I already have such good plans. You see, I would take some manure from the sta-"

"No. Pranks." Lizzie says strictly, cutting me off.

"But Lizzie," I argue, "I won't just stand by as you throw your happiness away."

"Fine," She replies. "I know you won't like this but what would help me most would be having you there beside me during it all."

I think this over… and over… and over. This couldn't be the only thing to do. But Lizzie is right. Being there for her would be the most helpful to her. I am, after all, her personal bodyguard. Besides, one of the plans involved at least fifty pounds of seaweed and that might look a tad suspicious.

"I'll think about it." I tell her before returning to my bed.

I blow out the candle, throwing the room into utter darkness. I hear a small "Goodnight." From Elizabeth before I can tell from her even breathing that she is sound asleep.

I, on the other, can't get my eyes to close. My eyelids seem to be glued open. I have way too much to think about.

_Why would Father even think of marrying Lizzie off to Norrington? He knows they can barely stand each other. Why would the Captain want Elizabeth in the first place? Sure, she is beautiful, and lovely, and proper, and kind, and a lady… But they don't like each other. I thought Norrington would be smarter than that. Another thing is that it would be so awkward. We have known him since before coming to Port Royal. It would be incredibly uncomfortable. Sort of like if your best friend marries your sister._

Soon, my eyelids grow heavy and the moon is high in the sky, notifying me about how late the time is.

The last thing running through my head before I am plunged into my dreams is the thought that in a year from now, I could be alone in the house with Father. Lizzie gone for good.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Miss Annalee, your Father and the guests are waiting." Millie says from just outside the door.

"I know. I'll be right there." I tell her, not moving from my position in front of the mirror.

Millie leaves and, slowly twirling the small cross necklace around my neck, I stare at my reflection. For my entire life, everyone has said that I resemble my mother. For the first time in all my sixteen years, I can see what they are all talking about.

Looking back and forth between the mirror and a small picture of a woman on the vanity table, I check off all our similarities.

First is our hair, medium length ending at mid-chest. The brown strands straight with only a few kinks here and there, although right now, my hair has been curled and put up.

Next are our eyes, a deep brown, almost blending into our pupils and with golden flecks speckled across the irises. Shaped like large perfect ovals, our eyes exude an innocence that, at least in my case, is completely misleading.

Then comes our skin, although hers was fair, and mine tanned, we both share the same natural blush and light freckles that spot our cheekbones.

Our noses are both medium sized and strong, leaving the question as to where Elizabeth gets her small upturned nose. Finally our lips, full and a natural deep strawberry color.

Although we both lack defined cheekbones, our heart-shaped faces ensure a more prominent chin, which thankfully, adds the angles that my face needs to counteract the baby fat that I still carry on my cheeks.

"Anna, you must hurry. Tula says that Father is getting anxious and we don't want to keep the guests waiting." A soft voice says from my left.

I turn to see Lizzie standing in the doorway, clad in a dark coral colored dress and accompanied by Tulla, one of our maids, who was probably sent to fetch us.

"I'm coming. I'm coming." I tell her softly as Tulla heads back down the servant stairs, a small staircase hidden from the entrance by a wall.

I stand up and try to gently glide out of my bedroom and into the hallway, as Mrs. Avilly instructed me but I just end up stumbling over my feet a couple times.

Lizzie smiles "Don't do that." She says, "You will probably fall onto your face."

I return the smile before tripping over a leg of the side table and landing flat on my face.

Lizzie jumps and gasps, "Oh dear, are you alright?"

She leans down beside me and I start to shake, strange sounds start coming from my mouth but are muffled by the floor.

"Oh my word!" Lizzie says, rolling my onto my back to reveal my laughing face.

She sits back and starts laughing along with me, "I thought you were crying."

"Why would I be crying?" I manage to say, breathless, "I have been falling on my face since I was two, why would now be any different?"

She doesn't answer but gets to her feet and pulls me up with her.

"Oh no." She says, still giggling a little bit.

"What?" I ask, finally managing to catch my breath and sound normal again.

"Your hair." Lizzie responds, her face looking worried.

I turn around and look in the mirror hanging over the side table I tripped over. Sure enough, my hair is partially undone with curls uncurling and most of my hair has come out of the up-do.

I groan and try to fix my hairdo, curling some of it with my fingers and re-clipping my hair. The end result is worse than before.

Lizzie grabs me by my hand and pulls me back in the bedroom and sits me in the chair facing the vanity. She proceeds to completely undo my hair and starts curling it.

Thankfully, curling only takes a couple minutes, since my hair was already mostly curled.

Before finishing my hair however, Lizzie leaves and quickly gets a maid to tell father of our little… setback.

"We have to hurry." She tells me, quickly striding back into the room. "According to Millie, dinner will be served in around twenty minutes."

Completely forsaking the thought of redoing my hair into its previous, intricate up-do, which had been done by weaving silver thread throughout my hair and then topping it off with a , Lizzie, selects a few silver flowered clips and with them, pulls my hair back into a low chignon, letting a few tendrils hang down, framing my face.

I take one last look in the mirror and decide that I like this hairstyle better than the previous one. It has more of the romantic feel that the dress emanates.

The gown is dark blue, fairly simple with large puffed sleeves that tighten at the wrists and silver tulle that outline the square neckline and the opening at the front which shows my blue petticoat that matches the dress perfectly. On my bodice, tiny little flowers and vines have been embroidered with silver thread. The dress is like a midnight sky, and the silver accents, the stars that dot it.

After my inspection, I turn around to find Lizzie already gone. I rush out and find her at the top of the stairs.

"Hurry, Anna." She tells me, "We are about to be announced. "

I take my place behind her and wait to be called.

"Miss Elizabeth Swann, daughter of Governor Weatherby Swann." Someone announces from the bottom of the staircase.

Lizzie gather's her skirts and slowly starts walking down to the first floor where at least a fifty people are waiting, spread across the parlor, and the entrance. For this party, Father invited many higher classed citizens from the two neighboring towns to attend.

Knowing that my name will be next, I take a quick breathe and remind myself to be calm.

"Miss Annalee Swann, daughter of Governor Weatherby Swann."

Adjusting my neckline a tad, I make my way down the stairs.

_Don't fall… don't fall… don't fall. _I tell myself over and over again.

Thankfully, I make it most of the way down without an incident. I, of course, stumble over my feet a little but manage to quickly cover it up, hoping no one noticed.

At the bottom of the staircase, Father is there to greet me, his eyes full of love and his arms open and ready to embrace me. I hug him before looking around and spotting Elizabeth, drink in hand and surrounded by Belinda, Katharine, and another girl.

I quickly walk to her and her "friends."

"Hello Katharine, Belinda." I say, smiling too large for it to be real. "Who is your friend?"

"Hello, Annalee and congratulations." Katharine says, smiling brilliantly. Even after our numerous spats as children, she still thinks that we are the best of friends. Thankfully, I enjoy laughing at her and her sister so their company isn't complete disliked.

"This," Katharine continues, "Is our cousin, Mary Attlee."

I turn to Mary, who, sports the same shining expression of her cousin.

"Hello Mary. How nice of you to come." I say, hoping she doesn't turn out to be like her cousins. As much as I like making fun of them, two Attlees is quite enough.

"I am sorry, ladies," I press on. "I have to steal Elizabeth for a few minutes."

Grabbing her arm, I drag her to an unoccupied corner.

"Thank you." She tells me. "Mary is just as bad as her cousins. All they seem to talk about is fashion and finding a husband. There is much more to life than that."

"There is? I don't believe you!" I retort, mimicking one of Belinda's expressions, my head tilted down, my lips pursed, and my eyes batting a dozen times a second.

Lizzie smiles just as we hear the call for dinner to begin.

We follow the crowds into the extremely large dining room and find out seats, beside each other, across from Father and Captain Norrington and directly in the middle of the table.

As the meal progresses, I feel someone staring at me but every time I look up and around, they are too quick for me, diverting their eyes.

By the time dessert comes along, I am extremely anxious. Dozens of times during supper, I got shivers due to the stares but I never managed to catch the person.

I push the creepy stairs to the back of my mind, determined to enjoy the rest of the evening because after supper, we dance.

"Gillette! Stop, you'll make me fall over!" I laugh and slap him softly on the arm, as we dance around the room to a lively song.

Thankfully, everyone knows that the possibilities of Gillette and I courting are next to nothing due to his low rank. Otherwise, Father would be on me in a moment, telling me to act more polite, and less familiar.

At the end of the song, I drop myself into a chair and brush my slightly wet hair from my face, too exhausted to do anything. Gillette brings me a drink and I quickly gulp it down.

"Next time we, dance, I command you to keep quiet. I probably made a fool of myself with how loud I was laughing." I tell him.

Gillette just chuckles and holds out his hand. "Care for another dance, madam."

"I can't, sorry. I can barely stand as it is." I reply, shaking my head.

"Later, perhaps."

I nod as Gillette walks away and asks Mary to dance. I watch as she quickly agrees, not surprisingly since she has been sitting most of the evening, only having been asked to dance once by her uncle, the banker in town.

After sitting through a few more quick dances, the musicians start playing slower waltzes and couples start filling up the floor.

I look around at the seated guests and can't seem to find Lizzie anywhere, proving that she is still dancing probably unable to escape the Captain's attention.

I feel extremely sympathetic for her. If I could barely stand after a few dances, Lizzie must be close to passing out.

Not paying attention to my immediate surroundings, I look up and jump slightly, startled by the young man standing directly in front of me.

No one says a word for a few moments, and I take this time to analyze him.

The man is tall. Around nine inches taller than my five feet six inches. Although slicked back from his forehead, his dirty blonde hair is a little long, curling at his neck.

His eyes are a warm chocolate brown and are accompanied by his strong, straight nose and his jaw which, although squared, isn't sharply chiseled.

His face is clean shaven and his skin tanned, bringing up the question as to his profession.

His build isn't tiny but it isn't overly large and is beautifully complimented by his muscles which thankfully aren't pathetically small or grossly over sized.

"Uhhh…" I say, feeling so extremely proud of myself for being so clever.

"S-sorry," he says bowing slightly. "My name is, uh, Fredrick Barrington.

I smile at his obvious nervousness.

"And I am Annalee Swann." I tell him.

He smiles slightly and says softly, "I know."

Already liking his somewhat awkward and nervous disposition, I hold out my hand.

He looks at it uncertainly before taking it and gently kissing it, all along, his eyes on mine.

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me the pleasure of a dance." He says.

I stare at him a few moments, a smile forming on my lips.

"I'd love to." I tell him, reaching for his outstretched hand.

The first thing I notice as I touch his hand is its roughness, again asking the question as to what he does for a living. He acts and talks and looks like a high society man but his tan, his hands and his longer hair all point to a lower class family.

He leads me to the floor, where dozens of couples are slowly waltzing. It is now that I realize that the music is quite slow, making this slightly awkward, because we have to make conversation and because we will be closer than most other dances require its partners to be.

I look up at Fredrick Barrington and notice immediately that he is thinking the exact same thing, probably hitting himself mentally for not thinking this through completely.

I duck my head so he doesn't me my smile and out of the corner of my eye I see Elizabeth, finally seated, and staring intently at me.

"You're a stranger to Port Royal, Mr. Barrington." I say after a few moments of silence.

"Please, just Frederick. And I am from Harbor View." He says, sounding relieved at having something to do other than stare at the top of my head.

"Is Harbor View close to the sea?" I inquire.

"It is actually. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you seem to be a gentleman but your skin is rough and dark and you're hair seems to be in need of a trim." I duck my head, worried that he might be offended by my frankness.

I hear a small chuckle and when I look up, laughter fills his eyes.

"You are even more outspoken than I heard you were." He says.

Relieved, I continue, a smile now on both our faces. "So I am assuming that you must be a merchant; and obviously quite prosperous. Well, prosperous enough to be invited to this event. My father is quite picky as to who he invites into our home."

"You are quite good at assuming." Frederick responds, chuckling.

"I can also tell that you must to quite a bit of manual labor, contributing to your muscles. You are also so kind to your workers that you help them with some of the work, hence again, the muscles."

"You are right again, except maybe for the kind part. I don't normally associate with the workers, Miss Swann." He says,

"Please," I start.

"Call you Annalee." He cuts in looking as if proud of his abilities to guess my next words.

"Actually, I was going to say, 'Call me Anna.'" I tell him, a small smirk on my face.

He just continues smiling.

"Do you have any family?" I ask him.

"Yes." He replies, "A father and I had a brother." His face drops slightly.

"Oh," I say, solemnly, not quite sure what to do. "I am sorry."

"It's all right." He says, "It has been some years. I honestly don't think of him much anymore.

"Now that you know pretty much everything about me, tell me a little bit about you."

"Well," I start but fall silent. "I honestly don't know what to say. My whole life is on display so I really don't know what to say that you haven't probably already heard."

Frederick looks thoughtful for a few moments before he speaks up, "Okay, we will start with the simplest things: What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? Who is your best friend? What are some of your hobbies? What is your favorite food?

I stare at him curiously for a few moments. _Why on earth is he so eager to know so much about me?_

"Well, I start again, "My favorite color is dark blue because while still being a royal, majestic color, it still as calmness to it; sort of like night time. My favorite animals are dogs, especially herding dogs, because they are intelligent, active, and obedient if trained well.

"My best friend is my sister because she is kind, wonderful, and honestly, the only girl I really know that is around my age. But I am pretty sure that even if I did know more young ladies, I would still prefer Elizabeth above the rest." I tell him.

"The only real hobby I have is reading since there isn't much else I can do. I tried painting but it ended up looking a lot like my cooking, which I will probably leave to the cooks in the future." I make a face, remembering the chicken pie I had tried to make for Father and Elizabeth a few months back. In my defense, salt and sugar are identical.

"You, Anna, are even more amusing than I heard. I wonder why your Father has kept you hidden for so long."

"Haven't you heard?" I say, putting my hand on my chest, faking shock, "The face you're looking at is just a mask. Under it, I am a freak, a monster, a disgrace to humans, if you could even call me that."

Frederick lets out a laugh, catching the attention of almost everyone in the room. Even the musicians skip a beat.

We both duck our heads, trying to keep our laughs in as the guests slowly return to their previous actions, some of them shooting us disapproving glances and others smiling at us, as if remembering their younger days.

We take a few moments to properly control our laughter before continuing.

"So, although than the fact that there isn't anything else to do, tell me why you enjoy reading. You can't possibly only read because of boredom." Frederick says.

I think for a few moments, "Nope, boredom is the only reason I read. I haven't had the chance to out much before so reading was the only way that I really got to do exciting things. But that is going to chance now that I am of age."

"Aren't you afraid of being married off and then held down by your husband and family commitments?"

My face turns sour and I guess Frederick notices.

"Sorry, I didn't know that that was a bitter note. I apologize."

"It's all right." I reply

I look around and spot a grandfather clock, which shockingly states that it is already almost midnight. I have been dancing with Frederick for at least twenty minutes, more than I have ever danced with one single person.

It is also almost time to clear the dance floor and go to the parlor where we will play cards, talk, and read for the rest of the night, until around one or two in the morning, where, at this time, the guests will leave and I will probably faint from exhaustion.

I look up at Frederick and see him looking at me intently before saying, "Miss Anna, you confuse me. One moment, you speak so deeply and intelligently and then you say the strangest, most wild things."

"Haven't you already figured it out?" I ask him, "I am obviously a crazy lunatic with split personalities who preys on the minds of young men.

"I am who I am. Nothing can change that, and I am proud of who I am even if I may be confusing to some people. What can I say? It takes a while to figure me out. I doubt even my Father and sister completely understand what I do and say and why?"

This gets a small chuckle out of him and I realize what I just did.

"Sorry," I say, "I did it again, didn't I?"

"I don't mind."He responds, "It makes you even more interesting than you already are."

Suddenly, I hear a commotion from the entrance.

"Stay here." Frederick says, "I'll go see what it is."

I walk over to a nearby chair and take a seat just as Frederick returns, looking nervous and anxious.

"What is it, Frederick?" I ask him.

"It's nothing," he says, "But I must be going now."

He turns and heads for the doorway that leads out to the garden.

"Now? But the night is still young." I follow him extremely curious, knowing that something was extremely wrong.

"Just do me a favor." He says opening the door and taking a step outside.

After seeing me nod, he progresses, "Forget about me and don't talk to pirates."

He quickly kisses me on the cheek before disappearing into the night, leaving me to stand alone, my hand on my cheek where his lips had laid.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_One Week Later_

The moon is full and bright, lighting my way as I carefully pick my way around and across the hundreds of rocks and boulders littering the entrance of the cave. After a very narrow scrapes and a bruised knee, I make it to the cave's entrance and peer in. Relieved to find the tide low, I lift one edge of my skirt and slowly walk in.

"Jack?" I call out, my voice echoing back from the end of the cave. "Hello?"

"Anna." I hear a husky voice from the shadows to my left.

"Hello Jack." I say slinging my sack over my shoulder and carefully walking across the cave, thankful that the light of the full moon is shining and eliminating the way. The rocks were already dangerous and loose, to walk in complete darkness would be disastrous, especially for me.

"What are you doing here? And why are you bringing me food?" Jack asks harshly

"What?" I fake horror. "I can't be nice anymore? Is that a new law that Father forsook to tell me?"

"No," He says, then a small smile appears on his face, "But it does say that in the Pirate Code."

"Ha, ha, ha." I reply sarcastically.

"Why are you here?" He asks again.

When I get to a small platform, I put my sack down and rub my shoulder. Carrying a bag filled with food across town isn't exactly the easiest thing to do.

I turn to Jack. "Well," I tell him, "If you must know, I needed someone to talk to so I decided I might as well bring your food a week early. I also did it to be nice, not that you even know what that means, and because you'd probably be as helpful as dust if I didn't."

Jack Greaves chuckles but it turns into a nasty cough lasting at least ten seconds.

Dragging the sack over to the feet of the old man, I get to my knees and start rummaging in the old crate that Jack always keeps to the left of his "throne" as he likes to call it.

"What are you doing?" he asks brusquely.

"Ah, here it is." I say, ignoring his question and getting to my feet and holding up a small vial.

"It's full," I sigh, disappointed. "You didn't drink any of it? No wonder your cough is getting worse."

"I don't need no medicine. I am no prissy old man that complains at everything. I am a pirate, darn it." Jack says, getting flustered.

"Says the man that sits all day and relies on a young girl to feed him." I tell him, slightly annoyed.

He makes a face and squirms in his chair. "What did you want to ask?" He asks roughly.

I let him squirm for a few more seconds before I respond.

"Well, as you know, the party signifying my coming out into society was last week."

"So?"

"Well, when I was there, I met someone. He was nice and all, but then I found out that h-"

"Marry him."

"What?"

"Marry him."

"I heard you the first time." I say, slightly shocked at his answer. I would have never in a million years expected him to answer that. 'Kill him' maybe, 'Make his life a living nightmare', probably, but 'Marry him? Never.

"But why on earth would I marry him?"

"Well, it's a man and you look kind of uncomfortable talking about him. You must really like him."

A silence covers the room for a few moments.

"You are so annoying." I tell him through gritted teeth and squinted eyes. "You don't even know my question."

"You and your questions. Why can't you ask your father or something?"

I laugh softly, "You know why I can't. Besides, I doubt he would know the answer."

"So, ask it already!"

"All right, all right. Well, I found out that he wasn't who he said he was. He was pretending to be Mr. Frederick Barrington, a wealthy merchant from Harbor View."

Jack's face starts changing, from bored, to interested, to shocked, to angry.

"Um… Jack?" I ask him. "You're starting to look like a slice of moldy old bread."

"Sorry," He says, "Go on."

I look at him warily but continue none the less, "The thing is, I kind of liked him. He was nice and shy, which isn't really how most men are. Normally they are confident, and kind of egotistical. Frederick, or whoever he was, was actually sort of awkward and nervous. But he was still polite respectful and kind, and gentlemanly."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is, I don't know what to do!" I shout my frustration suddenly taking a hold on me.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Jack says, also shouting. "Do you have to do something?"

"No! Yes! I don't know!" I sigh, completely exasperated. "I know I should just let it be but I feel as if I have to do something. I don't know what. Maybe find the man or something."

"Listen to me Annalee," I look up at Jack, "This 'imposter' is most likely a dangerous man. You would do well to stay away from him if you do ever see him again. For the moment, don't look for him, don't talk about him, and don't think about him. He is only bad news."

"It's just that I don't know if I believe that he is dangerous. He was so nice and charming when I met him."

"Anna," Jack's voice softens and I sit back on the floor, my knees clenched to my chest, "You haven't seen much of the outside world. You are in a pretty little bubble safe from the horrors of reality. What this man did to you is nothing compared to other things. To pretend to be someone you're not and fool a young girl, is nothing. In fact it is pretty pathetic. No harm came out of it and you should just be grateful that that is all he did."

"You're right." I say, feeling quite defeated. "You're always right."

"Of course I am." Jack responds, "Why else would you come for my advice?"

Jack ruffles my hair and I stand up.

"Thanks, Jack." I look around, "Well, I had better be getting to work."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Jack reverts back to his usual sour self. "Shouldn't you be getting home? Someone might notice you missing?"

"Don't worry, you stale piece of meat." I tell him, "This isn't the first time I sneak out. I've been doing this for around a year and a half. I am practically an expert."

"Of course," Jack says, sarcastically, "And letting your sister find out about our meetings was completely on purpose."

"Absolutely." I say, turning to Jack, a large grin on my face.

I start rummaging around in the heaps of old crates, chests, and sacs, trying to find a way to keep all the junk Jack is strangely attached to while making his home a little more tidy.

"Piece of meat?" I hear Jack ask to himself.

I bite a laugh and continue my clean up.

After around an hour of sorting through Jack's collections and making a little progress, I decide that it is time to return home.

"Before you protest, you wrinkled bean," I tell him, "I will be back soon to finish up."

Jack closes his mouth and starts mumbling something about a sassy brat and mush for brains.

I grab my sack and quickly snatch a book from a small crate sitting in the corner. "_Riding the Waves_". Perfect.

"Good bye, Jack." I tell him, already halfway out of the cave.

"Wait!" Jack calls.

I turn back and look at the shadows, expectantly.

"Why are you always referring me as food?" He shouts, "Are you planning to make me into a stew once I die or something?"

I just laugh and ignore him.

After circumventing the rocks, I finally get to the soft sand of the beach.

As I walk along the small waves towards the cluster of trees at the edge of town, I think back on the first few times Jack and I had met. I had been so young, only fourteen years of age.

_**Flashback**_

"What do you think you're doing?"

I jump at the raspy voice and turn towards it. Even with my lantern held high, the darkness and the fog rolling in make it impossible to see the figure sitting in the shadows.

"Who's there?" I manage to sputter out, my forehead sweaty and my hands suddenly clammy.

"What are you doing here?" The voice says.

"I am sorry," I say, "I didn't know any one was here."

The voice doesn't respond and the figure in the corner doesn't move.

I slowly, step by step, make my way over the bumpy rocks and onto a flat surface.

"Hello?"

"The Swann girl. Little Annalee Swann."

I turn around and find myself face to face with an old man.

His face is weathered and he looks to be nothing more than skin and bones. He is slouched in his seat, unmoving. The only thing that convinces me that he isn't dead is his bright piercing eyes. They look into mine as if being able to see through me and into my soul; as if he knew all my secrets and all my fears; as if he could see into my past, every day of my entire life, and into my future, all the days to come.

I shiver, feeling all of a sudden cold, wishing I had brought something warmer. The truth is, the wind or the cold had nothing to do with it.

"Who are you?" I ask.

Nothing happens for a few minutes and I almost turn back to the entrance, when the old man speaks up.

"You shouldn't have come here." He says, "It is dangerous."

My naïve mind, doesn't completely understand his words as I reply.

"It is alright," I tell him softly, hoping I don't sound threatening, "The rocks aren't that hard to get through and the tide is low."

I feel goose bumps form on my arms and on the back of my neck as he chuckles, the strange, creaky noise reverberating around the cave.

We stare at each other for a few moments, my eyes wide with fear and his eyes, squinted and assuming.

The old man then lifts his nose and makes a show of sniffing around, his eyes finally falling on the side of my cape, where a small pocket is.

His eyes, move back and forth from the pocket to my face, expectant and impatient.

As obvious as the hint was, I stood still, looking at the man for a few minutes before catching on and taking out the contents of the pocket.

Holding out a small roll of bread, a large carrot stick and a sweet potato, the man grabs them quickly and holds them up to his nose, breathing their scent in and sighing loudly.

I watch quietly as the man starts engulfing my midnight snack.

As the old man finishes the food, I look around, spotting a small crate filled to the brim with books.

Placing the lantern on the ground, I walk over to it, the man's eyes, always on my back.

I grab a couple of the books and walk back over to the light and the old man, who has finished his meal. I squat beside the lantern and stare at the covers.

One of the titles read, "The Glory of the Mast" and the other is, "Famous Pirates, Caught and Hanged"

I look up at the man, "You read books about pirates? If anyone caught you, you'd be investigated and possibly but in jail."

"I don't read them."

I sigh relieved.

"I write them." The old man says, chuckling at my stricken and shocked expression.

"You could get hanged or put in prison for life!" I tell him, my fear of him having dissipated slowly over the past couple minutes

Again he chuckles, this time slightly warmer and less frightening.

"The young can be so naïve and blinded. They know not of the hardships the rest of us have to face." The man says, partially to himself and partially to the wind that is starting to pick up.

"Little Swan," he says crouching down to meet me eye to eye, "Death or the deprivation of freedom is the least of my concerns."

"What is the most of your concerns?" I ask him, my voice high and airy.

"Well," the old man straightens up and his eyes take a playful glimmer. "Right now, it is my grumbling stomach."

I also get up, "I could bring more food." I tell him, "I mean, if you want."

He looks at me suspiciously. "What would you want in return?" He asks. "I don't want to feel indebted to you in any way."

I look around, trying to think of something, when my eyes fall on the books that I had mistakenly left on the ground.

I bend down and pick them up before holding them up. "How about some books?"

After a few moments of consideration, the old man agrees and we shake hands on it, slight smiles on both of our faces.

"Since you know my name," I tell him, "I think it only fair you tell me yours."

"Jack Greaves."

I take a quick peak outside the cave and see that the moon has moved and I should probably be getting back home. Father and Lizzie will soon be back from visiting Mr. Attlee and his family, including his two daughters, in their new home.

"Well, Jack Greaves," I say, "I think that it be best if I head back home. I'll be back in around a week with more food. That is around the time that Father will be gone to Harbor View and Lizzie will be too busy planning her birthday garden tea."

Jack doesn't respond, but nods his head and I start walking towards the exit, being extremely careful where I place my feet, which often tend to somehow tangle up with each other.

The minute I step outside, the wind starts blowing harder until I can barely keep my cape from flying off. Clutching it to my shivering body, I slowly make the steep climb up the sanded hill separating this part of the beach from the plateau above, where the town of Port Royal rests.

_I need to find an easier way to access the cave. _I tell myself _It would be difficult for me to carry a sack of food down this hill without hurting myself and climbing up it is nigh impossible._

Finally reaching the edge of town, I slowly make my way through the back streets and alley ways back home, thankful for the fog that had completely obscured most of the town. Hugging my body and keeping my chattering teeth still, I slowly but surely arrive back home where a nice warm bed awaits me.

_**End Flashback**_

A few months later I found out that Jack was an ex-pirate in hiding. By this time, I liked him too much to turn him in.

I also learned that Jack was crippled from his last attack on a merchant ship. He couldn't and still can't walk, he could barely move. His whole bottom half was paralyzed. It did help because he couldn't chase after me when I got on his nerves.

Strangely enough, it wasn't the fact that he couldn't move that bothered Jack. It was the fact that he had to rely on other people to do the things that he couldn't.

The only downside was that I became something of a servant for Jack, providing him with food, keeping his "home tidy", and keeping him entertained. In fact, I still do.

I finally come to the trees where I rest for a few minutes before entering town.

Walking quickly, I reach home fast, using the exact same path that I did that that first night so long ago.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_One Week Later_

My eyes start to flutter as a knock at the door threatens to disturb my sleep.

Groaning, I roll over onto my stomach and listen as the knocks continue and someone rushes around the room.

"Elizabeth, Annalee?" I hear Father call from the other side of the door. "Are you alright? Are you decent?"

"Yes! Yes!" Lizzie calls back and I quickly jump out of bed, still groggy and slip on a robe the second Father enters the room, followed by Tulla, and Millie.

"Still abed at this hour?" He asks, noticing the nightgowns. "It's a beautiful day."

Tulla opens the curtains and windows, flooding the room with the bright midmorning sun.

I clamp my eyes shut against the blinding light.

"I have gifts for you." Father says gesturing to the other maid, holding two large boxes.

Opening my eyes just enough to see my surroundings, I watch as Father opens the top box and Lizzie, takes out a beautiful golden gown, her face lighting up, delighted.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" She gasps, grinning widely.

Father then opens the second box, and I take the contents out revealing another dress, this one a light blue.

I stare at it, shocked at how intricately detailed it is.

The bodice is embroidered like many of my dresses but this one is done by threading miniature beads onto it. The square neckline and the bottom of the dress are completely hemmed with an inch of delicate tulle and the bell shaped sleeves end right at my elbows.

I stand on my tiptoes, kissing my father on his cheek.

"May I enquire as to the occasion?" Elizabeth asks.

"Does a Father need an occasion to dote upon his daughters?" Father answers.

I cock my head towards him, "Absolutely."

I see him squirm a bit as Lizzie and I both go behind our dressing screens and the two maids start helping us into the dresses.

"Actually, I, um, I had hoped you might wear it for the ceremony today." Father says.

"The ceremony?" I ask.

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony." He says and I hear the pride in his voice. The Captain had become somewhat of a son to him over the years.

"I knew it!" Lizzie exclaimed poking her head around the side of the screen.

"Commodore Norrington as he's about to become. A fine gentleman, don't you think?" Father says to Lizzie. "He fancies you, you know."

"Elizabeth? How's it coming?" He asks, hearing her grunt and groan, and I laugh at the strange noises. I hear her start to chuckle back but she is cut short by a loud gasp.

"It's difficult to say." She replies.

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London."

"Well, women in London must've learned not to breathe."

Curiosity getting the better of me, I come out from behind the dressing screens the maid, chasing after me to finish tying up the corseted back of my dress.

I look behind Lizzie's screen and find her being stuffed into a large belt-like device.

"What is that!" I ask with exaggerated shock.

"It is called a corset." Elizabeth says. "It is apparently the latest fashion."

"What's fashionable about suffocating yourself?"

Lizzie giggles, "It makes you skinnier." She turns to the side, shwoing me her profile.

"I'd rather be fat and alive." I tell her, eyeing the corset warily.

Lizzie leans in and I follow suit.

"So would I." She whispers quietly, and gestures to where Father had stood.

I look at her strangely for a minute but then quickly understand that she didn't want to offend Father.

"Don't worry," I tell her, "Father left with the butler."

Lizzie sighs with relief and we take our places in front of our vanities, letting the maids brush and style our hair.

I smile giddily as Millie starts creating an up do with my hair. Now that I am of age, up do's will probably accompany all my outfits.

After the Millie finishes clipping a small sun hat on my head and a cap on Lizzie's, we slip on our shoes, and grab fans. We then quickly make our way down to the entrance, where we find Father speaking with the blacksmith.

"Girls, you look absolutely stunning." Father says looking up the stairs.

"Will!" Elizabeth cries smiling, quickening her pace and stopping right in front of the blacksmith, her entire face gleaming.

I just look down at him, my eyes thin as slits. What was he doing here? Then I notice the sword box lying on the small table at the bottom of the stairs. I sigh, slightly annoyed, and take my place beside my father.

"Will! It's so good to see you." Lizzie says, with a smile gracing her face. "I had a dream about you last night."

"Yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to?" Father protests, looking unsettled and a little awkward.

"About me?" Will says, slightly uncomfortable under Father's watchful eyes.

"About the day we met, do you remember?" Lizzie says, ignoring Father's obvious disapproval.

"How could I forget, Miss Swann?"

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" Elizabeth responds softly, her smile softening.

Will hesitates, as if battling with himself between the proper thing to say and the thing he wants to say.

"At least once more, Miss Swann, as always." Will finally says, respectfully.

"There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety. Now, we really must be going." Father says, relieved at Wills, reply which had been less familiar than expected.

"There you are." Father says lightly, handing Lizzie and I our parasols, his mood suddenly improving.

"Good day, Mr. Turner." Lizzie says, her eyes narrowing and her voice laced with ice, noticeably disappointed and slightly angry at Will's, polite, distant answer.

"Good day," he replies.

Leaving Will standing at the entrance we exit the house. As the footman helps me up into the carriage, I can barely hear Will say softly, "Elizabeth."

When the carriage stops in front of the fort, I peek out the windows, managing to only see a few soldiers due to the position that the carriage is in.

This being my first public outing since the society party, I start feeling a tad nervous, as I retract my head back in, my breathing becoming a little faster and heavier.

Running a small handkerchief over my slightly sweaty forehead, I gulp. Everyone from Port Royal who is anyone will be here. I cannot mess this up. I must be the epitome of grace, beauty, politeness and charm. I must make Father proud and not make a mess of myself, as I usually do.

The carriage door opens and after Father descends the stairs, the footman extends his hand to Lizzie and then to me, helping us down the shifting stairs, which are even more dangerous with our heels.

Following Lizzie and Father into the bustling fort, I take in my surroundings.

The fort is filled to the brim with soldiers clad in navy blue uniform, all of them in formation. Only the two first lines of them are in red and are holding up their rapiers, forming a sort of tunnel under which Norrington will walk.

Only a handful of those present are civilians, including Elizabeth and I. Just the more important townsfolk, like the banker and his family, were invited.

"We are about to begin." Father tells Lizzie and I.

We take our place at the front of the crowd of civilians and Father stands on a small stage set at the back of the fort, ready to present the Captain with the ceremonial sword that Will delivered earlier.

Drums and clarinets start playing a military march, as Captain Norrington enters, and, in a dignified manner, makes his way passed the crowds and onto the podium.

The captain is clad in his ceremonial outfit, complete with a feathered border on his hat and golden detailing. His new wig is stark white and makes him look 15 years older than he really is. His blue-grey eyes are focused entirely at the matter at hand, walking.

"Anna," Elizabeth whispers, her breaths short.

"What?" I ask her but I already know the answer due to her fanning herself increasingly fast, and her hand on her stomach.

"The corset is making it hard to breathe. Would you loosen it for me after the ceremony?"

I nod but quickly return my focus to the new commodore after Father glares at us for whispering.

After the ceremony, during the small tea, Elizabeth grabs my hand and drags me towards the north-west tower.

About to enter the tower, we are interrupted by the man of the hour, Commodore Norrington.

"May I have a moment, Elizabeth?"

She looks at me, looking somewhat torn between being comfortable and the proper thing to do.

I don't say anything and she lets go of my hand, following the Commodore to the edge of the fort, but turns back to me mouthing, "One minute."

I too, walk to the edge, but keep a little ways off. Perching myself on a bench, I swing my legs and wait for Elizabeth to return.

"Elizabeth!"

I turn to see Norrington shouting and leaning over the side of the small stone wall, starting to take off his hat and jacket. Half a dozen guards, accompanied by Gillette arrive, just in time to prevent the Commodore from leaping.

Fear grips me and I freeze, not sure if I want to know what exactly fell into the water.

Praying that it was something on the lines of Elizabeth's fan and that she had suddenly run away, I slowly peek over the stones, my eyes clenched together.

Unable to bare it any longer, I shoot my eyes open.

The water below shows the aftermath of a dropped object, too big to have been a fan and unfortunately the perfect size to have been a dropped body.

I stifle a scream and run out of the fort and on the edge of the village, losing my shoes in the process. I manage to reach the docks just as a strange man pulls her out of the water.

I notice no breath. "The corset!" I shriek to no one in particular.

Without a moment's notice, the man takes out a dagger and cuts open the corset. It's only then that I notice her dress is missing.

Elizabeth turns over coughing out water. I grab her and try to pull her to her feet wrapping my arms around her shivering body.

"Lizzie! Are you alright?" I hear my father cry out. He, Norrington, and half a dozen guards have finally caught up.

Wrapped in my father's embrace, Elizabeth manages to chatter out, "Yes, I'm fine."

Norrington points his sword at the man, "On your feet."

My father looks down at my sister's apparel, surprised as she is barely covered, having lost both her dress and corset. He then looks over my sister's saver who, he realizes, unclothed her.

"Shoot him!"

"Father!"Elizabeth protests. "Commodore, this man saved my life. Do you really intend to kill him?"

Hesitantly, the Commodore lowers his sword and offers his hand."I believe thanks are in order."

The strange man looks at the hand in disgust and takes it uncertainly. The Commodore pulls up the man's sleeve to reveal a burn scar in the shape of a "P".

"Had a brush with the East India Trading company, did we… pirate?"

"Hang him." Father says without hesitation.

"Keep your guns on him, men." Norrington orders, and then addresses his right hand man, "Gillette, fetch some irons.

He pulls the man's sleeve up higher revealing a tattoo of a sparrow, "Well, well? Jack Sparrow, isn't it?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please, sir." Jack Sparrow says.

"Jack Sparrow." I mutter under my breath, in disbelief. I had read about him. He wasn't at all like I had imagined. In reality he was of average height and on the skinny side. His dreadlocks were a mess and he looked, and smelled, as if he hadn't bathed in months.

Other than this, he was quite an interesting character. The way he held himself, the way he spoke, was so different. Most men I knew stood straight demanding attention. Jack Sparrow asked for it, but you absolutely couldn't refuse him.

"Well, I don't see your ship, Captain." Commodore Norrington responds sarcastically, looking around.

"I'm in the market as it were."

"He said he'd come to commandeer one." explains Murtogg, one of the guards who had helped Elizabeth out of the water.

Mullroy, the other guard watching the docks, scoffs, "Told you he was telling the truth."

He turns to the Commodore, "These are his, sir." He explains, holding out Jack Sparrow's weapons.

Norrington looks through them, "No additional shots or powder, a compass that doesn't point north." He unsheathes the sword and smirks. "And I half expected it to be made of wood. You are without doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"But you have heard of me." Jack wittingly responds but is replied by being grabbed and hauled away to Gillette, who starts putting him in chains.

"Commodore, this man saved Elizabeth's life," I say, as I follow them, and place myself in front of Norrington. "Does her life mean so little to you? Without "Captain" Jack Sparrow," I nod towards the pirate who gives me an appreciative smile, "Elizabeth would be dead."

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness." The Commodore explains.

"Though it seems enough to condemn him." Jack says.

"Indeed."

As soon as Gillette moves away from Jack Sparrow, the pirate throws his irons around my neck, muttering, "Finally."

"No! No! Don't shoot!" Father cries as all the Marines point their muskets at Jack.

"You are going to regret this." I tell him, hoping my voice doesn't show betray my fear.

"Oh, yeah love?" He whispers into my ear.

"Yes, you will."

He ignores me, "Commodore Norrington, my effects, please, and my hat."

They are passed over to me and turning towards the pirate, I start strapping on his weapons.

"Don't forget the hat, luv."

"You know why you'll regret it?" I tell him jamming his hat onto his head.

"Enlighten me." He challenges.

I ram my elbow into his stomach and knee him in between the legs, thankful that Jack had taught me the basics on how to defend myself if ever the need arises.

"Do you feel enlightened now? Or are you just cringing in pain?"I hiss at his twisted face.

Watching him double over, I try to squirm out of his grip but it only seems to get stronger.

"Do you really think a few small hits will stop me?" He asks his face only slightly distorted

"I see you're completely unfazed by my 'few small hits'." I reply, sarcastically.

"You're absolutely right, luv. But I've been worse." He says, his face completely returning to normal.

"Gentlemen, m'ladies," He says, turning me around to face the crowd and cocking his pistol, placing it at my temple to reinforce his "man in charge" status.

I suddenly freeze, the earlier cockiness drained from my body as the cold metal against my skin reminds me of my closeness to death. One move from the pirate, and I could be dead. Even a small slip of the finger and my brains would be littering the wooden boards beneath my feet.

"You will always remember this as the day that you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"

He then, dragging me along with him, knocks down a lever, sending us up in the air, swinging on a rope and, eventually, landing on a beam a little ways down the dock, me yelping the entire way and digging my nails into his back, terrified of falling.

I was not expecting that at all.

Jack lets me go, certain that I won't try anything stupid from this location. I look down at the guards who are doing nothing at all to stop Jack Sparrow.

Not really caring if the pirate gets caught, even if he did threaten me, I am no longer in any danger and I start looking for a way down.

Thankfully, the beam we are on has a twin, accompanying it a few feet below.

While Jack takes a moment to look around for a way of escape, I slip down so that my entire body is hanging of the beam, my arms, holding on for dear life. Lowering myself as far as I can, I let go, my feet hitting the beam but slipping off of it the same moment.

I scream, but manage to wrap my arms around the wood at the last second, my body dangling like a ragdoll.

I take a peek at the ground below me, and sigh, relieved that the dock is inaccessible by the guards, preventing them from seeing my petticoats and bloomers.

Pulling myself up enough to be comfortable, I watch from up high, as Commodore Norrington dispatches his men on a search for the pirate who had unfortunately, disappeared into town, completely unharmed.

I, thankfully, only have to wait a few minutes before a ladder is brought.

I climb down and am engulfed in Father's outstretched arms and worried words as he holds both his daughters and calls for a carriage to be brought.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

That evening, after the maid has gone, I watch from my side of the room as Elizabeth, wrapped in half a dozen blankets, reads a book.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, my thin nightgown closer to me. The breeze drifting in through the windows cut through me like knives, while Lizzie seems completely unfazed by it.

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm okay. I heard from father that Jack Sparrow has been caught and imprisoned." I tell her, taking a seat on my bed.

She smiles.

"Apparently, he wasn't as clever as we though. A drunken man hit him with a glass bottle, rendering him unconscious."

Elizabeth laughs but turns serious again after a couple moments, "Anna, I need to tell you something."

I lean forward in my bed, intrigued.

Getting up, Lizzie takes a seat beside me and says with a deep breath. "Commodore Norrington has asked for my hand in marriage."

I stay silent.

I can't say that I am surprised, it was sure to happen.

"Anna, please say something." Lizzie pleads.

"What will you do?" I ask.

"Of course I don't want to accept." She says. "But so many people want me to. Expect me to. Anna, I don't know what to do."

"Strangely enough," I tell her, "I understand. Not about the marriage part but about not wanting to disappoint people, especially Father."

Lizzie only nods

Unable to think of more to say, I get up and grab my cape from the top of my bed frame.

"I am going for a walk." I tell Elizabeth.

"To Jack's?" she asks and I just nod my head.

"Be careful." She tells me.

"I will.

"Don't worry Lizzie," I say hoping I don't sound so discouraged as I feel, "You won't marry Norrington. We'll make sure of it."

Lizzie only gives half-hearted smile and I return one, slipping out the door.

Knowing that some maids might still be awake and using the servant stairs, I decide to take the main staircase.

Exiting from the ballroom's door to the garden, I take a moment to look back into the dark, eerie, house.

Something is strange. Maybe it is the way the wind makes the whole structure creak and groan. Or maybe it is the waves of fog that keep rolling in from the ocean. Maybe it is the dark, looming clouds that partially cover the moon and threaten to cast the world into complete darkness, with not even stars to light the ground.

I shiver, the wind and my thoughts unsettling me.

Walking halfway around the house, I find the bush under which I keep my sac.

I then make my way to the side of the house where no garden grows and enter a small cabin situated there.

Entering, I slap my forehead for having forgotten to bring a lantern.

Relieved to see that the clouds had let a few slivers of moonlight enter the building through the small slits in the ceiling, I start feeling around for some meat that no one would notice missing.

The meat storage cabin is small and it doesn't take me too long to gather quite a bit of meat, wrap it and put it in my bag along with a few bread roles that I had managed to save over the past week and four carrot sticks that I had snuck into the folds of my dress at supper with Father.

Elizabeth had taken her meal in bed, Father having been worried that she might catch a cold.

Satisfied with my stock pile of food, I start walking for the gate and past that, town.

After a few minutes of walking, I find myself, on a grassy clearing, on the top of a cliff, not far from Jack's home.

Not wanting to waste any time, I refuse to spend a few moments enjoying the view of the midnight black waves crashing along the rocks below.

Unfortunately, the way into the cave is at least half a foot flooded and I remind myself not to take too long otherwise, I will probably end up completely soaked by the time I reach home.

Instead of dragging the sac of provisions behind me as I normally do, I am subjected to carrying it on my shoulders, making the trek through the rocks and into the cave harder than usual.

Setting my sac down in the usual spot, I am careful to not wake Jack, who is completely passed out in his chair, a rum bottle in his hand.

Perplexed, I carefully extract it from his grip and take a look at it. The glass is new and the bottle is unlike any that he has. I should know, I have organized all his possessions at least ten times.

Setting the bottle down on the floor, I decide that it is not my problem, and that I have way too much on my mind as it is.

Absent-mindedly picking a random book from the crate, I hear Jack start to move around, awakening.

I watch silently as Jack grunts and shifts in his chair, his eyes slowly opening, first going to his empty hand, to the bottle on the ground, to the sac of food and finally to me.

Stretching his arms above his head, he positions himself in his chair to face me, "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"It's been a week." I remind him.

"I smell flesh." He responds and I point to the sac, giving him a strange look.

_Only a pirate would mistake meat for "flesh"._

"I brought some as a special treat."

"Why?" He questions so quickly that I am sure, that saying "Thank you" never even crossed his mind.

"Well first of all because I couldn't go into the kitchen and the vegetables in the garden haven't properly grown yet. And secondly because I need more advice and I thought that you might be more lenient to give it if I gave you something nice."

"You need advice again?" He asks me, raising an eyebrow. "What am I? A priest?

Ignoring his snarky response, I take a seat on a rock a couple meters away from Jack. He always reeks after he drinks.

"Yes, again. I am not having the best of months."I say, feeling the need to explain myself for some strange reason

"Well, I haven't got all the time in the world. What do you need help with?"

"Lizzie has been proposed to by Commodore Norrington." I tell him, with a loud sigh. It seems so much worse now that I have said it out loud.

"So?" Jack grunts.

"So!" I say, incredulously. "She doesn't love him! She doesn't like him! She can barely stand him! They can't get married! It is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! Their marriage will be a disaster with both of them completely miserable and full of regrets.

"Even though the Commodore is a prick and hasn't shown a bone of normal human behavior since I have met him, no one deserves an unhappy life. I can't let that happen to him and Lizzie, deserves much better. She is probably the most deserving person I know.

"She deserves everything good, including a large mansion, many healthy, happy, adorable kids, food to last a few lifetimes, and money to spend at a whim. She deserves the best the world can give her including her true love."

Jack opens his mouth to say something but I quickly shut him up.

"Don't say a word," I give him the evil eye.

"I know what you were going to say, "What about Will?" Well, what about him? He is just one of Lizzie's passing fancies." Now I am up on my feet, quickly walking around the room, over and over again, all riled up and with absolutely no thoughts of slowing down. "She can't really love him. He isn't her type. He's such a girl, for crying out loud! Not that there is anything wrong with it, but he is a male. He is supposed to be masculine. Instead he walks, I mean sways, around with his long hair in a pony tail, and his voice almost as high as mine. I mean, how girly can a man be?"

"Um…" Jack starts. "What are we talking about again?"

I freeze for a moment, trying to figure out the answer.

"Uh..." I plop myself back in my seat, my head in my hands, "I don't exactly know."

"Annalee," Jack starts.

I look up to correct him but he beats me to it.

"I mean, Anna. Are you sure that Lizzie and the Commodore are getting married?" He asks, sneering when he has to say the Commodore's name.

"No."

"And do you know for sure that Lizzie and Will are in love? Has either one of them said something that has confirmed 100% what you believe?"

"No. But it is –"

Jack cuts me off, "Anna, right now, there is nothing you can do. First of all, you don't know anything for sure. Secondly, it isn't really any of your business. Although it might affect you, it is ultimately, Lizzie's choice.

I start to answer him, when I hear large sounds coming from outside the cave.

I stand up and quickly walk outside the cave.

Although the fog has completely settles, making everything almost impossible to see, I can make out a dark shape in the harbor and lights, flying out from it that can only be cannon fire. I quickly climb the rocks to get a better view and manage to see the town, lit up by fires and hear cries of terror and pain.

I turn back to the cave, and quickly rush back in.

"Jack! There are pirates in the bay! They are attacking Port Royal!" I shout but as I get to the rock platform, Jack is nowhere to be seen.

"Jack?" I call out, suddenly afraid.

"Jack?" I call out again, but more quietly.

"Ja-" I try calling out again, but a blunt hit to the back of my head stops me from finishing.

I see the edges of my line of view grow darker and I slump to the floor, my entire world thrown into darkness.

"I am sorry, Anna." Is the last thing I hear, echoes of the cannon fire in the background.

My eyes shoot open and I quickly sit up, resulting in my head feeling as if it has been split open.

Clutching my throbbing head, I look around, noticing that I am still in the cave, sitting down on a makeshift bed made of rock, planks of wood, and at least five blankets. The sun is up and shining brilliantly into the cave, completely illuminating every previously shadowed nook and cranny.

"Wha-?" I start but stop when I hear a clearing of the throat.

Whipping my head around, the pain intensifies but right now, my mind is on other things.

"Jack!" I cry out, surprised to see a familiar face. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Jack's response comes much too quickly as if memorized.. "You just slipped and hit your head on the ground. You were unconscious."

"Jack," I say slowly, "I have known you for around two years. I know when you are lying. Please, tell me the truth."

Looking at me for a few moments, he turns away.

" Fine," He growls. "I… I might have hit you on the head to stop you from rushing out again."

"You hit me on the head?" I ask, suspiciously. The person that had apologized was definitely not Jack, whose voice was deep and rough as if someone had run a rough rock over his vocal chords. The other man's voice, although slightly rough, was smoother than Jack's and I had heard true remorse in his voice. Jack had proven himself incapable of being sorry or at least showing that he was. Besides, Jack couldn't walk. How on earth could he have moved from his chair?

"Yes, I hit you on the head." Jack repeats. "I couldn't let you leave. It was much too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I ask, but quickly realize what he is talking about, "The pirates!" I shout. "You stopped me from going to make sure my family was all right! How could you do that! For all I know my Father and sister could both be injured or worse!"

I slow my breathing and jump to my feet, a wave of nausea washing over me. Holding back my supper, I start taking a few, careful, small, steps towards the exit, my legs feeling wobbly.

"I have to go." I tell Jack but he doesn't answer.

My legs quickly returning to normal, I quicken my pace and soon find myself at the front gate leading to the Swann mansion.

The gate is bent in numerous places and the lock has been completely destroyed.

Slowly pushing the metal gate open, I slowly walk up the small hill to the house, my heart aching for what sight might meet me when I enter.

The front door is open and through it I can see all our maids, looking flustered and bustling around, cleaning, tidying and two are leaning over a fallen body.

I enter the house but no one seems to notice me in my cape. I circumvent the fallen man and my eyes grow wide as I recognize Beeker.

Pushing the gruesome thoughts that fill my head to the back of my mind, I quickly run up the stairs where strangely, the halls are completely deserted.

The first room I check is the small parlor, connecting to Lizzie's and my bed chamber. Finding no one in it, I continue in the bed room and yet, again, find it devoid of life of any sort.

For the next hour or so, I scour the house for any sign of Lizzie or a struggle that might have resulted in her being injured.

My next stop is the town. Searching through the carnage, and asking anyone around if they had seen Lizzie or my father, I make my way through each and every street until I find myself face the large, solemn gate leading into the fort.

From outside, I can hear the shouts and commands of the soldiers, most likely cleaning up the rubble and carting away the injured and deceased.

I go to the right of the gate and through the servant entry, finding myself in the middle of chaos. The fort is much more crowded than the noises from outside let on.

Seeing a familiar face on the other side of the fort, I pick up my skirts and run

"Father!" I shout, trying to be heard over the mayhem.

Thankfully, my powerful lungs have caught my father's attention, and relief floods his face as he engulfs me in a hug.

After being let go, I notice the table cluttered with maps and navigation tools with Commodore Norrington pouring over them and Father clearly assisting him.

"Anna! Where have you been? I've been so worried." Father says, looking me over for any signs of injury.

I brush him off. "Where is Elizabeth? I can't find her anywhere"

"She's gone." He turns away but not before I see tears forming in his eyes.

Before I can ask where, Will Turner comes stomps onto the platform on which the table is situated.

"They've taken her. They've taken Elizabeth!"

I gasp and my eyes widen. Bloody pirates! Those dirty, good-for-nothing pieces of scum! What on earth could they want with Elizabeth? Ransom was an option but if a note had been left, Father or the Commodore would have found it but no note is on the table and Father's face shows complete and utter helplessness.

"Mr. Murtogg, remove this man." Commodore Norrington says without even raising his head.

Will shrugs of the guard, "We have to hunt them down! We must save her!"

"And where do you propose we start," Father turns to Will, "If you have any information concerning my daughter, please share it."

"Jack Sparrow." Will says.

"He talked about the Black Pearl." Murtogg says, having been standing still and silent in the corner.

Mullroy shakes his head, "Mention it is more what he did."

Will leans towards the Commodore, "Ask him where it is. Make a deal with him. He can lead us to it."

"No," The Commodore sighs, exasperated. "The pirates who invaded this Fort left Sparrow locked in his cell; ergo they are not his allies. Governor, we will establish their most likely course."

"Most likely course?" I say. "How can you gamble on this? This is Elizabeth we're talking about! You can't just take risks that will most likely accomplish nothing." I lower my voice almost into a whisper, "You are making a mistake."

"Then, Miss Swan, what do you propose?" the Commodore asks.

Thinking fast, I come up with a surprisingly good idea.

"I propose that we send ships to every nearby port. There must be people who have seen a ship with black sails."

My father sighs. "Anna, we can't do that. It's unreasonable."

"Unreasonable!" I practically shout and Father looks around to make sure no one outside our little group has noticed my little outburst. "Father, trying to find out their most likely course is unreasonable. One little mistake and everything is lost, the time, money, and effort... not to mention Elizabeth." I finish, softly.

"I am sorry Annalee, but we cannot do as you suggest." Father turns back to the charts and I glance at Will, sympathizing with him for once in my life.

Will clenches his jaw and heads into town, a determined step to his walk.

Ignoring his strange new attitude, I sit myself down on a nearby bench.

What to do? Lizzie could be anywhere by now. Anywhere from here to Tortuga, the pirates could be.

_Think, Anna. _I tell myself. _Where would you go if you were a pirate?_

After thinking for a few minutes an idea enters my head.

Although completely outrageous, dangerous, and stupid, it is probably one of the best things I could do at this time.

_Who knows a pirate better than a pirate?_ I ask myself with a small smile as I exit the fort and start making my way down to the beach.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Running and slipping down the sandy side of the hill towards the ocean, I don't even look around to make sure that I am not being followed.

My breathing heavy from having sprinted through the village twice in the past half hour, I finally make it to the cave, where, before entering, I catch my breath.

Hearing something, I quickly quiet my breathing and lean in closer.

Voices can be heard from inside the cave, and I freeze, confused and a little frightened.

"Who could that be?**" **I whisper to myself.

Not baring the suspense any longer, I enter the cave.

Silently and carefully picking my way through the rock, I try to stay in the shadows, not fully trusting anyone that could possibly be connected to Jack's old life.

I stop in my tracks, my eyes wide with surprise as I finally come into view of the platform where Jack and another man are talking, completely oblivious to my presence.

"You." I barely manage cough out.

Both men turn around, wearing shocked, guilty, and completely awkward expressions on their faces.

The young man, formerly known as Frederick Barrington, suddenly angry at seeing me, clenches his fists and eyes Jack like a predator does to his prey.

"You said she was gone!" He says through gritted teeth. "You said you sent her away!"

"What is going on?" I shout as the man grabs Jack by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him close, lifting him few feet off the ground and raising his fist.

"Stop it!" I shout. "Stop it right now!"

"Frederick" glares at Jack for a few more moments before slowly lowering him back into his chair.

"Please just tell me what is going on." I tell them.

Sighing and running his fingers through his hair, the younger man takes a seat on a large rock and leans forward, as if in thought.

My eyes expectant, "Frederick" is first to speak.

"I apologize." He says sounding slightly nervous and completely remorseful. I can almost hear the anguish pouring out with every word. "Not only for my outburst just now, but for the night of the party. I wasn't thinking, and I was wrong for lying to you. I do not live in Harbor View and my name is not Frederick Barrington, it is Thomas Calder."

"Thank you." I say, "But why did you almost flatten Jack's face? And what was "You said she was gone!" all about? And why on earth did you come to the party?"

"Well," Thomas starts, eyeing Jack, "Jack had promised me that he wouldn't let you visit any more and that you would have nothing to do with him."

"Why would you make Jack promise something like that? Is this about what you said at the party about me staying away from pirates?"

"Yes." He says and Jack snickers.

"Thomas thinks that all pirates are bad, even me."

"Thinks? I know, Jack! Pirates are all right in songs and bedtime stories but the real life things are as good as dirt and barnacles on the underside of a ship. They steal from the poor and destroy other people's property. They murder, Jack! Do you actually think that it is okay to bring a young, naïve girl into that kind of life?"

"If you think that I'm naïve, you should really meet my sister, Elizabeth." A dark cloud passes over me, "Well, not anymore."

This for some reason pricks Jack's interest. "What are you talking about?" he says, "And don't say nothing. Any moron can see that something is wrong."

Sighing, I tell him about what I had learned at the fort.

Both men fall into silence during my story and for a few minutes later.

"Why did you come to the party? Why did you ask me to dance? How do you know Jack?" I ask "Frederick", eager to leave the subject of Elizabeth for now. I don't want to deal with it at the moment.

Thankfully noticing my discomfort at the subject of my sister, Thomas goes along, "Could you slow down?" He chuckles sofly.

"Why did you come to my party?" I repeat

"I wanted to see you."

Taken aback slightly, I let it slide, promising myself to bring it up again later.

"Why did you ask me to dance?"

"I didn't fancy anyone else." He says as if it was pretty obvious.

"How do you know Jack?"

"Well, well, well." Jack says with a sly grin, having been surprisingly quiet during the entire conversation. "You're back to me. I was afraid you had forgotten me."

I don't say anything, not truly knowing if I forgive Jack yet for his deception. He had led me to believe that Thomas was just another man that wasn't the purest of hearts.

"Why did you hide from me that you knew Thomas?" I ask him

"He was sailing for the first year that you and I knew each other and how on earth was I supposed to bring up the fact that I had a son afterwards?"

I gasp, "Son? But you don't look anything alike! You don't even act alike!"

I turn to Thomas for an explanation.

He just shrugs, "Informally Adopted."

I only nod, still shocked.

_Jack adopted a person? That is impossible! That would mean that he has a…a…a heart._

"You said earlier," I start slowly, "That you wanted to see me. How on earth did you know about me?"

At this, Thomas turns slightly red and chuckles nervously.

He gets up and holds out his hand to me. "I'll show you."

Looking at his hand indecisively for a few moments, I take it and Thomas pulls me to my feet.

Leaving Jack to his own devises, Thomas leads me through a small opening in the wall, which I had noticed before but never really paid any attention to.

Still holding my hand, Thomas enters the small crack and pulls me along with him. After a couple dozen steps, we arrive at a room where a table, two chairs, a crate, and a chest are placed.

"This is my room." Thomas says as we both drop our hands.

I look around, embarrassed at being in a man's room for the first time, alone, with a man who has already admitted to taking a fancy to me. The situation is a tad awkward.

Seeing my expression, Thomas quickly says, "Sorry, not my room. This is my house."

I smile at his attempt to make me more comfortable which strangely succeeded even though not the way he probably planned.

"You said you would explain how you already know me." I tell him.

"Right." Thomas replies and retaking my hand, he leads me to a corner of the room where we start climbing a wall which thankfully has rocks jutting out, giving us footholds.

When re reach the top, everything becomes clearer.

We have arrived at a small platform which is quite spacious even with the low ceiling. The floor is completely covered with layers of blankets, carpets, and rugs and in the corner is a small crate which is filled with what seems to be personal belongings: Locks, a small book, a satchel of money, a extra shirt, and a picture of a family.

I pick up the painting and stare at it. The father, although slightly bald, has a large black mustache and is dressed in a British military outfit complete with at least five military awards. He looks stern but his eyes gleam with an amusement and pride as he looks at the camera, his back as straight as one can be.

The young women sitting on a chair is young, maybe in her mid-twenties. Her dirty blonde hair is wavy and put up. Her lips are curled into a small smile as if she is the only person let in on a joke.

Beside the mother, standing in front of the father is a seven or eight year old boy with black hair and his eyes are a piercing blue.

On the mother's lap is a little boy probably not yet a year old. His hair is white-blonde and his large brown eyes are framed by long dark lashes.

"Is this you and your family?" I hold up the painting towards Thomas, already knowing what his answer will be.

"Yes." Is his only response.

Nodding, I put the painting back, aware that I must have touched a nerve.

"Sorry." I say under my breath.

He doesn't hear my apology and takes a seat on the blankets.

Noticing my surrounding, I finally understand what is going on.

The little room that we are in is something of an overlook with a part of it open to the real cave.

"You must have been up here when I came with Jack's food."

With the pieces now all fitting together, I look at Thomas.

"You were spying on me?" I ask him.

"Uh…" he says backing away slowly. "Not really, I just happened to be here when you first visited and… almost every time afterwards."

Rolling my eyes, I turn away to cover up the smile that creeps onto my face. Even if he had been spying on me, I find it kind of charming and sweet that he had been too shy to talk to me outright.

"Thomas," I start hesitantly. "Could you tell me why you almost broke Jack's face? Or should Jack be the one to explain?"

"No," Thomas says, "It's all right, I can tell you."

Taking a seat beside him, I look up in anticipation.

"I am a merchant of sorts, and a few weeks ago, maybe a month or so, I was in Tortuga, the pirate port, when I came across an older lady. She was lying on the streets, her clothing dirty, tattered and reeking of sewers.

"When I walked past, she jumped out at me and started pleading with me to help her, tears running down her face. I tried ignoring her, I admit, but she followed me, wailing for my aid only a few feet behind me, sometimes grabbing onto my shirt or holding on to my shoes. I don't know why she picked me but, after a few hours, I decided to see what she wanted. She told me to follow her and soon we arrived at a small box in an alleyway. Inside was her young son. He was coughing and his voice was like a rock, rough and barely audible. I could tell that he was on the brink of death.

"I did the only thing I could, since I had no money for a doctor or medicine, not that there would be either in Tortuga. I brought him to my ship, along with the mother. That night, I decided to return to Port Royal to see what could be done for the boy if he survived the journey. Unfortunately, in the middle of the night, the little boy passed away. His mother, in grief, threw herself into the ocean."

I guess I didn't give him the reaction he was looking for because he repeated, "The OCEAN, Anna. There are sharks in the ocean."

Realizations dawning on me, my eyes widen but I stay silent, not trusting myself with any words.

"Her screams could be heard for the next thirty minutes or so but it felt like hours." He continues after it sinks in, his voice slightly softly cracking.

"What became of the little boy?" I ask airily, unsure if Thomas really wanted to tell the story or if he only did it because he felt obliged to me.

"I gave him a proper burial a few miles down the coast." Thomas says. "But that isn't the point of the story, Anna. This family, if you could call it that, had been completely ordinary. As I learned while talking with the mother on the boat, they had lived as well-off shop keepers in Harbor View. It was pirates ransacked the town, killed the father, and kidnapped the mother."

Thomas puts his hands on his head and takes a deep breath, "When the mother threw herself in the water that something snapped inside of me. I couldn't, I can't, let you be sucked into that life, Anna. It isn't one that someone should live. I have probably seen more death and terror in the past eleven years than normal people would see in two life times."

"Eleven years?" I ask, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, "But surely you are older than eleven."

Smiling, Thomas replies, "I was eight or nine when the ship carrying my family and I got destroyed in a storm. Only a handful of those onboard survived including my older brother, Charles, and I. Charles was the one who got me into pirating in the first place.

"After the shipwreck, we found ourselves in a small fishing village, not far from Tortuga. We traveled there by foot and Charlie started pick-pocketing for money and valuables we could sell to make a living for ourselves. He wasn't very good at the beginning and we sometimes fell asleep, our stomachs empty and sore. We also almost died from starvation a few times and yet Charlie would never even consider selling this."

Thomas pulls out a metal bracelet overlaid in brass and decorated with a large mosaic rose right in the middle, created with dozens of gemstones.

I gasp softly, "It's beautiful." I say through my breath.

"It was the gift from my father that my mother loved best." Thomas says, his eyes locked onto the piece of jewelry.

"Anywise," Thomas continues. "Jack found us and took us under his wing around a year later. Charlie was the best pick-pocket, even stealing hats from heads without anyone noticing. I guess that the profit Charlie sometimes brought in was the main reason that Jack decided to become a surrogate father to us. Charlie died from the cold when he was sixteen and I was fourteen. Jack, afterwards, started teaching me the ways of the world.

"I wasn't as good as Charlie at making money but when Jack lost the freedom of movement and was confined to sitting, I was the one that took care of him and since then, Jack has become less harsh and milder."

"Milder?" I laugh half-heartedly, unable to make light of Thomas's life story, "He must have been a nightmare."

"Thomas," I say, looking down at my hands after a few minutes of silence. "What did you mean when you said that you came to the party because you wanted to see me? It seems that you had already seen quite a bit of me from up here.

"It isn't as interesting or complicated as some may think." Thomas begins, "A few days after Jack promised to send you away and never speak to you again, I decided to talk to you, as I had been thinking of doing for a long time, before you were "banished". The party seemed like the perfect place and time."

"Allright," I say, "I have one more question for you."

Thomas turns slightly and waits.

"Where were you when I was here this morning and the past few visits since the party? I know it isn't important..."

"I have been conveniently on errands for Jack." Thomas says, sounding annoyed. "This morning, I was actually in town." Thomas says, "I had gone to check the damage of last night's attack. And I actually learned something interesting about one of the town's blacksmiths."

_Will!_

"He had aided one of the pirates from prison escape and they had cleverly commandeered a ship."

The conversation seems to run out of fuel at this moment, leaving us both in deep thought and silence.

_Oh, the amount of things I have learned today!_

The cool sea air drifts up from the entrance of the cave, finding its way through my nightgown, which is dirty and wrinkled from a night spent outside, and to my skin, leaving Goosebumps.

Not truly thinking, I scoot closer to Thomas, our bodies touching and I feel his whole self tense up. Grabbing a blanket behind us, I hold it up to Thomas and we wrap ourselves up in the warm wool.

"THOMAS! ANNA!"

I jump up, jolted, and sigh loudly.

_Just when I was getting comfortable._ I tell myself, blushing at how that would have sounded if I had said that out loud.

Throwing off the blanket, I, followed by Thomas, exit the overlook, walk through the house and slowly follow the winding hall back to the main cave.

I look at Jack, annoyed, but slightly curious because of the strange face he has on.

A crooked grin distorting his face and a mischievous glint gleaming from his eyes, Jack turns to us.

With a chuckle rising from his diaphragm and threatening to come out into the world, Jack looks straight at me and says. "I know how we can save Elizabeth."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I cross my arms and look at Jack skeptically , remembering some of his "plans" over the years such as creating braces for his legs which end up with him lying in a heap.

Seeing my unbelieving expression, Jack takes a deep breath, suddenly not so sure.

"Do you, uh, want to know how?" He asks.

Raising my eyebrows, I nod, curious to see what plan he had concocted this time.

"My plan is to commandeer a ship, go to Tortuga, get a crew and a general location as to where the Black Pearl could be and go find it." Jack says quickly.

Thomas and I both stare at the old man who is sitting forward on his chair, his eyes lit up in anticipation of our response.

"You're insane." I tell him and turn to leave.

"Wait, wait." Thomas says and I look back at the two men.

Thomas then turns back to Jack. "Look at us, we are an inexperienced pirate, an old crippled pirate, and a privileged girl from a wealthy family. How on earth would we commandeer a ship? And how would we get a crew. We have no money, no leverage, and no reason for anyone to join us. And where would we find a general location of the Black Pearl? It is like "mist at night" as you once told me."

"I don't know." Jack says, leaning back, his arms crossed behind his head, "I thought of the plan, now it's your turn to contribute with the details."

"Thank you." Thomas says sarcastically, sitting down and running his fingers through his blonde hair.

A few minutes go by before Thomas jumps up, his face excited. "I know what we can do!"

Jack and I both turn to him expectant.

"I have a few ideas that could make Jack's plan work." Thomas says, "Down the cost a bit, is a little forest where I have my camp. There I have an old boat, just large enough for three, maybe four people to walk around and even sleep comfortably. I haven't worked on it for months but from what I remember, it only needs a few holes patched and a new sail."

"That still leaves Tortuga and the Black Pearl." I tell him.

"I'm not done," He replies, "Now, with the boat, we don't need a crew. We'll only stop in Tortuga for supplies. As for the Pearl, Jack Sparrow and the blacksmith will probably be in Tortuga and then we will just follow them."

"I don't know Thomas." I tell him. "It sounds very farfetched."

"We could at least try."

"What about me? I can't just disappear. My father has already lost Elizabeth. It wouldn't be fair of me to leave."

"Um, Annalee," Thomas starts slowly and carefully, "Do you have to come?"

"What?" I ask him incredulously.

"You yourself said that you couldn't leave."

"First of all, I said I shouldn't leave. And I can find a way to leave without my father truly knowing where I have gone." I say, getting worked up.

"But it isn't safe!"

"I am not a damsel in distress!" I shout back.

"If you get hurt, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. You are not coming!"

"Well, it isn't your decision to make."

"Anna," Thomas's voice softens, "You have no idea what you are getting into. This isn't like the books Jack has told me that you read."

"Is this what you think I'm doing? You think I am only going for the adventure? This is my sister, Thomas! I am not going to leave her fate in a stranger's hands."

Thomas doesn't respond. He just takes one last look at me before walking out of the cave.

I turn back to Jack, "What was that all about?"

"Charlie." He says, strangely knowing that I already knew about Thomas's brother.

"Oh." It made sense. Thomas had lost Charlie and I guess he was afraid that he would lose me. It was sort of strange that Thomas knew me much better than I knew him and actually cared about me while I just saw him as an acquaintance.

"Should I go apologize?" I ask Jack.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jack picks up a small wooden stick and a dagger from the crate beside him and start whittling.

Sighing, I follow Thomas's path outside.

_Down the coast a bit, he said, down the coast a bit._ I tell myself, scoffing. _More like a whole hour of walking and I am still not there._

The beach had long ago disappeared, leaving me to forge my way through forests. I swat some flies away from my face and carefully untangle my hair from a branch.

_I hope I'm not lost. I would probably be stuck here for a long time if I were. No one ever comes this far from town._

Pushing those scary thoughts out of my head, I keep going.

No looking where I am stepping, I accidentally trip over a root poking out of the ground, throwing me forward and I land face first on the ground. Before I know it, a rope cage forms around me, lifting me up into the air, screaming.

When things settle down I realize that the "root" was actually a painted rope.

Mentally kicking myself for being so inattentive and clumsy and try to get myself comfortable, waiting for whoever set the trap to come, knowing that it would probably be a few hours.

Shockingly, I hear a few noises only minutes after being caught. Suddenly afraid, I freeze, not daring to make a sound.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

I sigh from relief at the familiar voice as Thomas walks out of the trees.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, obviously still a little angry with me.

"Oh, nothing." I tell him, "Just hanging around."

A smile tugs on the corners of his mouth, "You know what I mean."

"I came to apologize. I was wrong for acting the way I did back at the cave. I shouldn't have got so riled up, and I should have tried to see the situation from your point of view."

"Apology accepted." Thomas says after a few moments.

He takes a step forward and cuts the rope holding the cage up.

Falling hard to the ground, I yelp and glare at Thomas when I straighten up.

"Thanks for all the bruises." I tell him, my eyes thinning into narrow slits. .

Brushing off my threatening voice, he grins, turns and walks way.

"You want to see the boat?" He asks and I run to catch up, quickly deciding that this man was really hard to stay mad at. The cute smile and his innocent face were just too much.

After walking for a few minutes we come to a clearing. At least a dozen broken crates litter the areas and a small tent lies in the corner, made from only a cloth draped across a piece of rope and whose corners and held down with stones.

"What are all these crates for?" I ask.

"They used to carry cloth and furs on merchant ships. I figured that they would be made from really good wood because they had to keep the contents from becoming wet. I'm using them for patching up the boat." Thomas explains pointing behind me.

I turn around and see the boat, resting on the sand, just in front of the water.

It was in pretty good shape. At least better than I expected. The boat itself looks as if made from new wood and it is the perfect size for four people. The mast however is beaten up and looks as if patched a dozen times. The sail is completely missing and the wheel is a little bruised.

I turn back to Thomas. "When do you think it will be ready?" I ask him.

"Well, I have the canvas for the sail and I am almost done making the boat watertight. All we have to do is sew the canvas into a sail and stock the boat."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask.

"Do you know how to sew?" Thomas asks, grinning.

"That depends. Is the question, 'Do you know how to sew?' or 'Do you know how to sew well?'?"

Thomas laughs and drags a large sheet of canvas from behind the tent.

"It doesn't have to be nice." He says, "Just make sure that the seams are really strong and tight."

After getting me set up with a seat and all the tools I need, Thomas returns to cutting and shaping the planks of wood for the boat.

We work silently under the heavy sun. I wipe my forehead with my nightgown. After a few hours of work, I hear my stomach growl and realize that I haven't eaten since supper the day before.

I look up at the sky and determine that it must be close to noon. I put down my work and, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the sun, I look over to where Thomas is working.

His shirt is soaked through with sweat and his hair is glistening with moisture. He is sitting on a log, cutting the crates of wood into smaller pieces.

"Can we take a break?" I ask.

Thomas also looks up at the sun and nods, "We can have a meal."He says.

"I carefully fold the sail I've been sewing and put it back inside a crate.

As Thomas rummages through a sac close to the edge of the forest, I take down the tent and drape the cloth across a branch and a board placed between two trees, creating enough shade to properly cool down.

I take a seat on the ground and take a swing from a water filled skin that had been lying around.

Thomas soon joins me, a variety of different foods in his arms.

"You know, I have no idea how old that water is." Thomas says, gesturing to the skin.

I just shrug, "Right now, I am so hot and thirsty that I really don't care."

Thomas puts the food down on my lap without a word and returns to some of the crates, coming back with a blanket which he sets on the ground.

I carefully transfer the food from my lap to the blanket and start spreading it out and organizing it.

I take a quick inventory of the food and place at least two thirds aside.

Thomas looks at me questionably.

"For the trip." I say, "If we carefully ration this food, it could last us a few days, just in case something were to happen on our way to Tortuga."

We start eating from the various foods. There are at least three types of cheeses and two types of meat. A loaf of bread is quickly sliced and overlaid with butter and jelly. Thomas pulls out another wineskin, this one full of barley beer.

"How much more time do you think it will take to finish the sail?" Thomas asks.

"Maybe one more half hour." I reply, "It isn't as hard as I thought it would be. What about the boat?"

"I only have a couple more holes to patch. I finished repairing the mast. It isn't as good as I want it but there isn't much more I can do. We can probably replace it once we get to Tortuga."

"What is Tortuga like?" I ask taking a bit of bread and cheese and stuffing a slice of ham down my throat.

"Crazy. Even during the day, the streets are littered with drunkards and the saloons are filled to the brim. Everywhere, badly dressed wenches try to make their living and stupid people shoot bottles from the top of others' heads. It is a mad town but, if you are used to it, it can be quite entertaining. I actually have a spot on top of a small house where I just sit and watch the town tear itself apart. It is pretty interesting and you learn quite a bit from others' actions and what you overhear."

I recline, resting my head on a tree trunk.

"I don't think I've eaten so much in my life." I say shutting my eyes.

"That can't be," Thomas says, "You're rich. Don't you get to eat whatever you want?"

"Of course not." I reply surprised, "You actually think we get to do whatever we want?"

"Well, not anymore."

"When we eat, we have to only eat a little amount as it isn't proper to fill yourself, especially at supper because it is a known fact that you sleep better when you aren't stuffed with food.

"I can't also drink as much as I want. I am not allowed to get up during a meal to even to the water closet and it would be very uncomfortable to hold it in."

Thomas chuckles and then we settle into a comfortable silence, resting our aching bodies.

"We should probably finish our work." I say sloppily as my eyes droop.

"There is enough time." Thomas responds just as lazily.

"But Jack must be worried." I say.

This jolts Thomas just enough for him to sit up.

"We've been out here for hours." He says, "Let's quickly finish up and then return to Jack before he goes crazy and actually try to find us. Last time he tried to walk, he broke his nose."

I pull myself up to my feet and return to my log.

Thirty-five minutes later, Thomas and I finish attaching the sail to the mast.

"You did a good job." He says as I hand him the sac of food, a bucket, and extra rope to be stored in the boat. "I thought you said you weren't good at sewing."

"I'm not."I reply, "Then again, before today, I've only sewed and embroidered handkerchiefs. The knots have to be miniscule and perfect."

Thomas does one more run-over of the boat. "Time to test it. We'll sail it down the coast a bit till we get to the bend right before Jack's cave. We don't want anyone to see it."

Getting into the boat, Thomas holds out his hand and pulls me in with him.

"Do you know anything about sailing?" He asks.

"Well, I know that you need a sail and a boat to do it." I reply sheepishly

Thomas laughs, shaking his head, "You live by the sea! Is that really all you know?"

"Hey, don't laugh at me!" I say putting my hands on my hips and sporting an annoyed expression, "The last time I stepped foot on a boat was two and a half years ago, and before that only once when we came over from London."

"Well, in that case, sit down, relax, and enjoy the ride. But you do realize that you'll have to learn how to sail if you want to come with us to Tortuga. We throw anything we don't use overboard."

"Ha ha ha," I reply sarcastically, "You are so drole."

"The wind is with us." Thomas says, changing the subject as he looks up at the air filled sail." We should be there in a few minutes."

As Thomas predicted, we arrive in only around ten minutes. We ground the boat around the bend from the cave and walk the rest of the way.

As we make our way across the rocks surrounding the cave entrance, I realize that I am still in my nightgown. Suddenly, I feel so exposed and improper. I wrap my arms around myself to fell more hidden but it doesn't do much other than make me lose my balance.

As I wobble and pitch forward, Thomas reaches out and grabs my arm, saving me from smashing my face against the rough stone.

"Thanks." I mumble.

"Have you decided what you will do about your father?" Thomas asks.

I shake my head, "I have spent most of the past few hours trying to figure how to leave without alarming my father, but nothing I think of is good enough."

"Have you thought of tricking him?"

"Tricking him? How would I do that?"

"Well, you could bribe that you know who is leaving town for a few weeks. Make them tell your father that they will be taking you with them so that you have some peace after all that's happened."

"Thomas, that is… a pretty good idea."

"So, do you know anyone that is leaving?"

"Only one." I say, smiling as I mentally see all the pieces finally fitting together.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Taking a quick glance around me, I quickly and quietly knock on the door. After a few moments of silence, I start getting anxious.

_What if she's not there? What will I do? I can't wait for her to return. Will I be forced to stay in Port Royal?_

Thankfully, the door opens an inch. A single eye looks through the crack before the door swings completely open.

"Oh, my poor dear! Come in, come in!" Mrs. Pirren says, gathering me in her arms and pulling me into her home.

The house is warm and the scent of freshly baked raisin loafs can be smelled.

"How are you, dear? Are you holding up all right?"

I nod, and blink back a couple tears at the thought of the past couple days.

_Why do the tears have to come on now? _I ask myself _Why now, when I need to be strong?_

"I'm all right." I tell the round soft woman as she gives me another hug. "I am actually hear to ask for a favor."

Her ears suddenly perked up, Mrs. Pirren shows me to the living room, makes me sit and takes a seat across from me. "What do you need?" She asks, "I will do anything within my power to help."

I sigh, relieved, knowing that she means everything she says.

"Do you remember around a week and a half ago, when you came to our house for a fitting of the ball gown?" I start, and Mrs. Pirren nods, "We were chatting and you happened to mention a trip you were taking to visit your sister in a small town a few days trip from here."

"Yes, Delilah's husband is very sick and he might pass away. He is very old and it wouldn't surprise anyone if he did. She needs someone to help her and if he does go, I'll bring her back here. She doesn't have any children and she is very secluded so she won't have anyone to miss."

"Yes, well, I need you to pretend that I'm going with you. You're leaving to night right?" I ask and when she nods, looking somewhat confused, I continue, "Well, from now till then, try to find any opportunity to tell people that I am accompanying you."

"Listen, Anna. I not trying to pry but what will you do about your father?"

"Leave that to me." I reply with a smile.

"Annalee, does this have anything to do with the fact that Elizabeth has gone missing?"

My grin disappears and I glance around nervously, "Of course not, Mrs. Pirren." I say with a short laugh.

"Anna." She chides.

"Fine," I say, hoping that I am doing the right thing even though I promised Thomas I wouldn't give Mrs. Pirren any details at all. "I, with a couple friends, am going after her."

I stare at the older women, waiting for the shocked expression and protests …which don't come.

"I'm not surprised." She says putting down her cracker, and my jaw drops.

"W-Wh-What?" I sputter.

"I said that I wasn't surprised."

"I heard you the first time but I don't understand."

Mrs. Pirren puts down her cracker, folds her hands and looks into my eyes.

"Anna, you are a strong, young woman, unafraid of anything, and dastardly loyal to those you love. It would shock me if you didn't try to go after Elizabeth."

"So you will help?" I ask her, anxious.

"Of course!" She replies, "Just promise me one thing, Anna."

"Anything."

"Be careful, and don't talk to pirates."

"There is no chance of that." I say mildly sarcastic but she doesn't seem to catch on.

We both get to our feet and she walks me to the door.

"Anna," She says before I turn to leave. "Don't worry, one day it will be better. I know that that sounds a little vague and not really helpful but it is true. No matter what happens with Elizabeth, you will get over it and you will continue with your life. The world will not end."

I give Mrs. Pirren a hug, and turn, walking away.

"Father." I call softly as I enter the house.

Father appears from his den accompanied by Commodore Norrington.

"Oh, Anna, where have you been all day? I've been trying to find you."

"I've been with Mrs. Pirren." I say.

"Things just seem to get worse and worse." Father says, wiping a handkerchief across his forehead, looking completely washed out and exhausted.

"What do you mean?" I ask, anxious to hear the news.

James Norrington is the one to answer my question, "Will Turner, the blacksmith and the pirate, Jack Sparrow have stolen a ship and taken off. "

Relieved at hearing the news that I already know, I sigh, "I heard. It's all over town."

The conversation sort of drifts off at this point and I take the opportunity to ask Father the all-important question.

"Father, I have a request to make of you."

I take a seat in a hallway chair and Father takes the chair across from it.

"What is it, Anna? Nothing serious I hope."

"As you must know, Mrs. Pirren is leaving this evening to visit her sister, whose husband is very ill. I think it would be a good and wise decision for me, and you, that I would go with her. I could get a break from everything going on here; I am so exhausted, and you could be reassured that I would be safe and always being watched."

"Anna, don't be ridiculous."Father replies and my heart sinks.

"But Father," I protest, "I have already spoken with Mrs. Pirren and she is willing to let me accompany her."

"If I may, sir," Norrington cuts in, "What Annalee is proposing is one of her better ideas and it is apparent that she put much thought and planning into is. If she were to go, you could properly place all your efforts into finding Elizabeth and bringing her home without having to worry about someone else."

I look up at the Commodore, shocked that he has taken my side.

I give the Commodore a quick smile for his efforts and turn my attention back to Father.

"When you put it that way, it makes more sense. You are permitted to go, Annalee, and stay with Mrs. Pirren until Elizabeth is back in Port Royal. But know that this is a onetime thing. Ordinarily, it would be forbidden for you to travel with so little time to prepare and without any servants. Also, please let me know when you are leaving."

I get to my feet and give Father a hug, "Thank you Father," I say. "

Father gives me a small, tired smile and starts talking with the Commodore about assigning more ships to the search of Elizabeth while I quickly walk up the stairs to my bed chamber on the second floor.

I quickly pack a small bag filled with some necessities including an extra pair of undergarments, a hair brush, and a small notebook and quill with a small, very well made, leather sack of ink. The last item I pack is the small picture of my mother that I keep on my vanity table.

I also quickly change out of my nightgown which Father strangely didn't notice. He must have been so overwhelmed with everything that has been happening.

I slip of the gown and quickly go to the wardrobe. I, out of habit, quickly glance around before pressing on the bottom right corner of the back wall of the wardrobe.

The whole thing creeks a little before the back opens up, sending a cloud of dust flying into the air.

When the dust settles back down, the contents of the false back are revealed. From hooks and hangers, my mother's old clothing hangs. On the bottom, dozens of little knick knacks, such as old pins, rings, boxes, and decorations, lie.

Lizzie and I haven't opened this since we first came to Port Royal around eight years ago. We promised that we'd only open it at the right time. I swallow back a lump that had formed in my throat and pick out what I will bring with me.

I quickly pull out a plain brown flowy skirt, a creme blouse with bishop sleeves, a large brown belt, a crochet shawl, a thick, a wool shawl, and a handful of black ribbons for my hair.

I change into the skirt and shirt, putting both shawls and all but one ribbon into my bag, before tying my hair back with the thin piece of fabric.

I pick up my cape from where I dropped it and put my soiled nightgown on the bed.

I grab my bag and exit into the hallway, slipping on my cape.

I quickly make my way down stairs and to the front door, hearing Father and the Commodore back in the den, having a heated discussion.

Before exiting however, I quickly take out my writing tools from my bag.

_Dear Father,_

_I was going to let you know when I was leaving in person, but I didn't want to disturb you and Commodore Norrington. _

_I again thank you for letting me accompany Mrs. Pirren. _

_I pray that my sister is soon found._

_I love you and will miss you._

_Annalee_

I place the note on the side table where Father is sure to notice it and walk through the front door.

I pull the hood of my cape up and tie the bag to my shoulders as I walk to the gate and enter the town.

"Jack? Thomas?" I call as I pick my way into the cave. "Hello?"

No one responds and I soon find the reason why.

Jack is fast asleep on his chair and Thomas is nowhere in sight.

"." I say in a sing-song voice.

When all he does is grunt, I decide to take it to the next level.

I stand alongside his chair and lean in close to his ear.

"JACK! FOOD!"

Jack jumps up with a yell and nearly falls off his chair, drool dripping from his mouth and his hair sticking up on all sides.

I can't help laughing at the sight and Jack scowls.

His eyes narrow and he looks at me with pure disgust as I try to calm my laughter.

"Stop laughing and tell me where the food is!"

I erupt in another round of laughter.

Jack doesn't say anything but gives me the evil eye as someone runs in.

"I heard Jack yell. Is everything all right?" Thomas asks, breathing hard from running.

"No." I say, catching my breath, "I just woke Jack up."

Thomas finally looks at Jack and smiles, "Nice hair." He says.

"Did everything work out?"He asks, turning back to me.

"Yes," I reply, "It couldn't have gone better."

"So we are good to leave?"

"I guess so. Is there anything you want me to bring to the boat from here?" I ask.

"No." Thomas replies, "While you were gone, I went through all of Jack's things and everything I thought we'd need, I have already stored in the boat."

Thomas and I both head for the exit.

"Hey! What about me?" Jack calls, obviously angry and annoyed at being forgotten.

Thomas laughs at his forgetfulness and returns to pick Jack up.

He carries Jack's thin frame bridal style, with his passenger grumbling all the way about the stupidity of marriage traditions.

We walk around the bend to where the boat is "docked" and Thomas gently places Jack on a makeshift bed of blankets and furs on the bottom of the boat.

Thomas climbs in and helps me in afterwards.

He pulls up the anchor and shows me how to unfurl the sails.

At once, the wind fills the sail, and we start going straight out to sea instead of past Port Royal and directly to Tortuga. This way, there is less chance of being spotted or stopped.

I sit close to the front of the boat and reach as far down as possible without falling out and trail my fingers in the waves as we rush by. The wind blows my tied back hair out of my face as I take a deep breath of the salty air.

We are finally on our way.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I lean over the side of the boat and watch as my lunch float away.

"That is repulsive." Thomas says, teasingly.

"Oh, be quiet." I say, unable to think of a good retort. "It's all your fault I'm sick. You had to drag me into this."

Thomas laughs, "I think it's the sickness talking."

I just groan and lie back down on a spread out blanket.

"Come on, Anna." Thomas says, "You agreed that you would at least try to learn about sailing."

"Can't you see that I am in pain here?" I ask. "Even if I did try, I would be of no use to you. I'd be running to the side of the boat every minute, emptying my…already empty stomach."

" Fine, but when we leave Tortuga, you will be helping me."

"Fine, fine, fine. Whatever. Just leave me in peace to watch my insides bob away into the ocean, only to be found by some poor unfortunate soul, probably living in France. At least he can use them to feed his poor starving family."

Thomas looks at me, playfully disgusted. "Why did you have to say that? I don't think I'll eat for days, now."

I just give him a half-hearted smile, as I close my eyes, praying for the end of the ceaseless rocking.

"Anna, we're there."

I slowly open my eyes, expecting the sun to be blaring down on me. Instead, I am met with the full moon, large and glowing in the sky.

"What time is it?" I ask groggily as I sit up.

"Late." Thomas replies

I look over to where Jack is still sleeping and then quickly back at Thomas, "Hey! Why did you let him sleep longer?"

"Because he's old and useless. You on the other hand, are still useless but you're young, you can still be taught."

"Thanks?" I say uncertainly.

"Come and get up. We're about to dock.

I look out over the side of the boat and in the distance, I can see a dozen flickering lights and even from this distance, yelling, singing, and howling can be heard.

_Is that yodeling?_

I get to my feet, steadying myself as the boat rocks slightly.

I grin, "I don't feel sick anymore!" I say, "I must have already fed everything to the fishes. They probably ate very well."

Thomas grimaces, "Again, gross."

I brush him off, "What would you like me to do?"

"Oh, now she wants to help!" He teases with a smile

"Of course I want to help. I just couldn't earlier because I was feeling like I had swallowed a basket full of slimy seaweed."

"Here," Thomas says, tossing me a rope. "Fold all the blankets and furs and tie them all together with this."

I quickly complete the task and look back a Thomas proudly.

"What now?" I ask.

Thomas continues bossing me around till we are close enough to Tortuga to see individual people. He tells me to put on my cape and to keep my face hidden as much as possible.

"For safety." He explains.

"Against what?" I ask

"Everything." He says quietly, and in a "we are done with this conversation" tone.

I take a step back, surprised at his attitude, but then quickly remember: We are about to enter Tortuga, infamous pirate port of the New World. Most people tremble at the thought of this place. I am surprised I am not shaking in my boots. I guess that I am "immune" to the fear because I am used to being around Jack so I sort of assume that all pirates are like him.

I must change my mindset if I am to survive even an hour in Tortuga.

"Wake up Jack." Thomas tells me, "We'll be docked in a matter of minutes."

I shake Jack awake silently and for once he isn't angry or shouting. He just sits up quietly and makes sure he is ready.

"Anna, one more thing." Thomas says, "Do not speak until I say so. Your manner of speaking will definitely clue everyone into your background and that is not something we need. Be silent; be quick; be aware."

"You sound like Ms. Avilly." I mumble under my breath, remembering my etiquette teacher.

Thomas apparently doesn't hear me and we all sit silently, until the boat reaches the dock.

Thomas quickly ties up the boat and grabs Jack, once again in bridal style.

I pass Jack the sac of food and place one of the blankets that were still lying around over top of him, just as we had planned. Now it looked as if Thomas was carrying a large sack of potatoes.

He motions for me to follow and I grab the pack of blankets, the sac of food, my bag, and a small satchel.

My eyes to my feet, I manage to keep up to Thomas as we quickly zig-zag our way through the town.

We stop at an old building, resembling all the other ones that we have passed. Thomas fumbles around in his pocket for a key and I take this opportunity to look around.

Everything is colorless. The buildings, the roads, even the plants, which are miraculously still alive, are in shades of grays. Even the few people wandering the streets are clothed with dark, depressing colors. I can still hear shouts and laughter but they seem to be coming from the other side of town, or at least a few streets down.

"There we are." Thomas says finally unlocking the door.

He, still carrying Jack, rams into the door, which slowly groans open.

The room we enter is completely dark and I cough as our presence causes a cloud of dust to fly up.

Thomas puts Jack down and starts walking around the room, lighting at lamps and dusting everything with a rag.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" I ask him.

"Yes." He says, "This is where Jack, Charlie and I stayed all those years ago. I don't think anyone's been here since then."

"What about you? You've traded here before. Wouldn't you have stayed here while in port?" I ask.

"No, I stayed aboard the ship."

"Speaking of the ship," I start, "Why didn't we use it to travel here instead of fixing up the small one?"

"I didn't do so well on my last trip and I had to sell it to pay off my crew."

I don't respond but take a seat on the pack of blankets.

I look over to Jack who hasn't said a word since we docked. He is sitting silently in the corner, taking in his surroundings as if in awe. This place must bring back memories.

"Hey, Jack. Are you all right?" I ask.

He snaps out of it, and looks at me somewhat surprised by the question. "I'm fine."He says in barely a whisper.

Thomas gets to work building up a fire to the left and the room starts looking less cold.

There are around half a dozen lighted candles breaking the darkness and the house is now completely visible.

It is a one room house with an old soft sitting chair for three in front of the fire and a table behind it. Surrounding the three available sides of the table are three old, rickety wooden chairs.

One the far left of the room is one wobbly thin bed frame made of wood. On it, a thin, straw mattress filled with holes is laying.

Beside the bed, is a small piece a furniture, maybe a dresser, maybe a chest.

Thomas was still busy trying to get the fire started and Jack was nodding off to sleep.

I grabbed a blanket and spread it over the bed and then tried to lift Jack up in order to put him on it.

He was surprisingly light, due to the fact that all the muscles in his legs had wasted away years ago, but still heavy enough that I grunt and almost fall.

I softly place him in the bed and pull another blanket up to his chin.

Within seconds, he is asleep and I continue looking at him, confused. _What was going on with him? _

Momentarily, shrugging it off as tiredness, I look back to the other side of the room where Thomas has finally succeeded at starting the fire.

I grab another warm blanket from the corner before joining him on the old couch, which is so soft, that the whole seat caves in when I sit.

I yelp from surprise and Thomas chuckles while I squirm around getting comfortable, eventually going on my knees, using my legs as a layer between me and the couch.

We don't say anything for a while but just stare into the leaping flames, curving around the wood, and flying up into the brick chimney, as if dancing to the music of the crackles and pops.

"This place must be hard for you to come back to." I say, breaking the silence.

"Actually, it isn't as hard as I thought it would be." Thomas replies. "I mean, I always thought that I would break down and cry because of all the memories of Charlie flying around in this house. I think I am over grieving though."

I turn to look at him, perplexed, "Over grieving?" I ask, "It has been around a decade, maybe more, since my mother died and I don't think that my father is even close to be done grieving. Sometimes it feels as if he has just begun."

"Charlie was different. Our relationship wasn't based on feelings and emotions. It was more centered on our needs and necessities. Even before we were shipwrecked, he was more interested in playing pranks and getting in trouble than he was interested in spending time with me.

"He wasn't much of a role model and I have always resented him for dragging me into a life of piracy even though it wasn't really his fault. He wasn't particularly nice and he spent most of his time stealing and such. I hardly ever saw him. He was protecting but not chummy. He sacrificed a lot and expected the same. We weren't emotionally close."

I don't know how to respond to that so I decide to ask another question. "If you've never really had a good role model and emotionally tied person in your life, how did you end up so…so… nice?"

Thomas laughs but then quiets down when we hear Jack moving around on the bed.

"I have no idea." He says, still smiling, "I guess by being surrounded by such hard, tough people, it involuntarily motivated me to be different."

I just nod, yawning.

A few minutes later, Thomas is fast asleep on the couch.

I stand up ready for sleep.

I go back to the other side of the room which is now, thankfully, warm enough to be in without my teeth chattering.

I stand next to the bed and look down at Jack.

He isn't looking very good.

I decide to touch his forehead just like I have seen some doctor's do back in Port Royal.

I hesitate only a few inches above his skin. I can feel heat rising from his forehead, and I am afraid of what I will feel if I do touch him.

I slowly place my hand on his skin and retract it just as fast. He is as hot as an oven.

I am not a doctor or a medicine woman, but this does not look good… at all.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I swiftly turn around towards the other side of the room.

"Thomas!" I shout, "Thomas! Help!"

Thomas jumps up in a flash and is by my side within seconds.

"What's wrong?" He asked frantically, "What is going wrong?"

"It's Jack." I choke out, slightly surprised at how distressed I am feeling.

Thomas feels Jack forehead, like I did, and when he pulls back, he doesn't look happy.

I then remember from Thomas's story back at the cave that Tortuga has no doctor and the only medicinal thing around in alcohol which wouldn't work at all in this situation. Back in Port Royal, being sick isn't such a big deal. Although it isn't something we just brush off, death doesn't even cross our minds unless the sick or injured is seriously ill. We have doctors and medicine.

Here though, it is another story. Sickness here can be deadly, even the illnesses that are not normally considered lethal.

I can feel my heartbeat getting faster.

"What do we do?" I shout.

Thomas doesn't respond, and his eyes betray helplessness.

Suddenly he jumps up and heads for the door.

"Stay here with Jack." He says before darting through the door and into the night.

I turn back to the old man, my mind too preoccupied to be curious as to where Thomas was going.

Thomas returns fifteen minutes later, and by now, Jack's is officially unconscious. I had thrown a cup full of cold water and he hadn't even stirred.

Thomas kneels down at my side beside the cot and brings out a small cloth.

He unwraps it, revealing some plant leaves.

"Boil some water and place these two leaves inside, letting them soak for a few minutes. Then, take them out and soak some bread with the liquid to camouflage the taste as it is quite bitter. Force feed Jack the bread and hopefully, that will bring his temperature down."

I quickly heat some water using the burning ashes which are under the burnt out fire. I then take out a loaf and slice it while waiting for the leaves to soak.

I then cut the bread into miniscule pieces before dunking them into the drink and carefully cramming them down Jack's throat, thankful that although he is unconscious, his throat still works fine.

I lean against couch beside Thomas, tired and anxious.

"How do you know that it will work?" I ask him.

"I don't," He replies.

"Where did you go?"

"I remembered that a crazy old medicine woman used to live a few blocks away. She died a year or so ago and her cart has been lying around ever since. I went to it and took whatever plants I thought might work. If the ones we gave Jack don't make him improve, I will go back for more."

I nod, holding a hand up to my mouth, yawning.

"You should get some sleep." Thomas says.

"What? Are you crazy?" I reply loudly, and Thomas shushes me.

"Quiet down."

"I can't go to sleep." I continue, more quietly than before. "Firstly, Jack is sick and sleeping is so insignificant beside his health. Secondly, even if I did try, I wouldn't be able to fall asleep. I am much too worried and anxious."

"Fine." Thomas says, with a knowing smile, while holding up two folded blankets "At least rest. Use one of these as a pillow and the other to keep you warm."

I don't reply, but try to cover another yawn as I follow his instructions and lay down, warm and comfortable.

My eyes start to droop despite me fighting to keep them open. I can't stop yawning, however, and I can feel my body slowing down and my mind becoming sluggish.

_Just a small nap. No more than a half-hour. _I tell myself, snuggling under the covers.

_But I can't leave Thomas to watch Jack alone! What if things take a turn for the worse? _My mind argues back.

_I wouldn't even be any help in this state if something where to happen. _I argue one last time before my mind shuts down and I fall into sleep.

The sun wakes me from my deep sleep and I quickly sit sup, right away remembering our situation.

I turn to the bed where Jack is still sleeping. Now, however, he seems to be more settled and comfortable.

Stretching and yawning, I stand up, slightly shaky due to sleeping on the floor all night.

"He is doing better."

I turn around to see Thomas poking the fire.

I sigh, relieved.

"Does that mean that we will be leaving soon?" I ask.

"I said doing better, not healed." Thomas says seriously, concentrating on the flames sprouting up from the logs.

I look around trying to see what could have possibly made Thomas into such a bad mood. "What are you saying exactly?" I question, "How long will we have to stay here?"

"I have no idea." Thomas replies, "But at least two weeks. Definitely not less; probably more."

"We can't stay. What about Elizabeth!"

"Well, we certainly can't leave." He argues back, "Jack is in no condition to leave and we don't have enough money to survive much less by the supplies we need to properly accommodate Jack in his state."

I sit down on the edge of a chair, my hands running through my hair.

_What are we going to do?_

It suddenly hits me.

"I'll find work."

Thomas looks up surprised, a small irrepressibly grin on his face. "You, work? Now why didn't I think of that?" He teases.

"Very funny." I say through my slitted eyes, "But I'm serious. I think it's the perfect solution."

"Anna," Thomas starts, gently. "You can't."

I sigh exasperated. I open my mouth to argue but Thomas cuts me off, "Do you have any idea what the jobs around here are."

I just stare back at him my forehead wrinkled in slight confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"The only jobs around here that would be suited to a young lady would be either a tavern waitress or a prostitute."

I back up, involuntarily, disgust most likely showing on my face.

"Are you playing a game with me?" I ask.

Thomas laughs halfheartedly. "Absolutely not. I wouldn't play a game with this sort of thing."

I pause for a moment. I don't like how serious and solemn Thomas is being about the whole thing. It is a problem but he is acting as if it is the end of the world.

"Why not?" I ask him cautiously.

"Because you can't work, and because the only work for a man around here is to own his own shop or tavern which I clearly can't do, I will have to leave and get a job in another town until we have enough money to properly repair the boat and get enough supplies to make the trip, while still being properly fed and clothed."

"The boat? Why do we have to repair the boat?" I ask, letting whatever else he said slip me by for now.

Thomas sighs, obviously distressed by the turn of events, "I went to the boat this morning just to be sure that it was all right since you can never be too careful with drunkards running around. It was practically in pieces.

"The mast was chopped up and won't hold up in strong winds, the sail is torn in quite a few places, and the wheel is badly damaged. Even the holes I patched are mostly reopened. It was already somewhat filled with water and I had to drag the boat up onto the sand so that it didn't sink."

I let myself slip to the floor. How much worse could our situation be?

"Wait," I suddenly say remembering something Thomas had said earlier, "You said that you wouldn't play a game with me about the jobs and that you would have to leave Tortuga to find work. I think that that is a good idea. Why do you have a problem with it?"

"Anna, if you haven't realized we are in the most notorious pirate port." Thomas replies, "If I leave, you will be alone here with Jack. Do you know what happens to young girls that have no protection here? They are either beaten up, killed, or raped."

I shudder but quickly pull myself together. "Thomas," I say, in an authoritative tone, "Are there any more of the plants that helped Jack?"

Thomas nods to a table where the small pile of leaves are sitting, "When I found out that Jack was doing better, I went back to the cart and gathered as much of these leaves as I could."

"How long do you think this would last us?" I ask gesturing to the leaves.

Thomas shakes his head, "Not long. We used two leaves last night and there are only three left."

I look back to the pile, which looked like way more than three leaves. On closer inspection I find out that the leaves are much larger than I had previously thought and that there where in fact only three.

"If we kept giving Jack two every night, do you think that he would eventually get better."

"Absolutely." Thomas replies. He picks up a book that had been previously out of my and opens it. "I found this when I went back to the cart morning, most of it is burned to a crisp and unreadable."

I jump over the long chair covered in padding and lean over Thomas' shoulder.

"What is it?" I ask.

"It is a book on herbs and medicinal plants." He replies.

I smile at our turn of luck but then I remember that most of it is probably unreadable.

"The section on plants that help hair grow is all right and so are a few pages in the illness section. The rest is useless. Thankfully, the page on the plant that helped Jack is readable." Thomas says flipping over to that page. "It says that these plants are not native to this island or any close by but can be bought from traders for a fairly good price since they are not rare."

"What about the other pages on illness?" I ask and Thomas flips one page.

"This plant is helpful to relieve pain caused by burns. It doesn't heal the burn and it is also not native to this island or most, in fact. It is very expensive to buy."

Thomas closes the book.

"So, what do we do?" I ask.

"Well, I can't leave, and neither of us can get a job here."

I sigh, "I could try."

"No, you can't." Thomas replies, "I won't let you."

I let it drop, internally thankful.

"Jack is doing slightly better and we could always return back to Port Royal aboard another ship."

"No." I say determinedly. "I came to find Elizabeth and that is what I am going to do."

Thomas sighs, "Fine, but what about Jack?"

"Find Jack." A raspy voice says from behind us.

Thomas and I both spin around at Jack's voice.

We both rush to his bedside.

"Hey, Jack." I say softly, "How are you doing?"

He just grunts.

Thomas quickly grabs a skin of water and, raising Jack into somewhat of a sitting position, proceeds to help him drink.

After a few sips, Thomas gently puts Jack's head down.

Jack seems more awake and aware of his surroundings.

"Thanks." He says to Thomas, his voice a bit better but it is obvious that he is ill. He closes his eyes once again and drifts off to sleep, his breathing less crusty and his overall condition seems to be better.

"What was the first thing he said?" I ask after a few moments of silence.

"Find Jack." Thomas replies without hesitation, "But that doesn't make sense. He is the only Jack we know and he is right here." He pauses, then leaps up, "Jack Sparrow!" He cries, "He was talking about Jack Sparrow and it completely makes sense."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Jack Sparrow and Will Turner are most likely still here in Tortuga. They must have arrived sometime early last night and will probably be leaving today. I have to find them." Thomas rushes to the door.

"Thomas!" I shout racing after him, "What on earth are you talking about? How will finding them solve our problems?"

Thomas just grins. "You will have to wait and see. I'll be back soon." He says before running down the street towards the docks.

Minutes fly by and I stay seated, not quite sure what to do. I spend some time twirling my thumbs and some time pacing the room. I also spend around five minutes pulling my hair, frustrated that Thomas is taking so long.

My time is very well spent.

Finally, after a half-hour, I hear footsteps approaching the door.

I jump to my feet relieved.

The door opens and Thomas comes in followed by Jack Sparrow and Will Turner, who suddenly looks angry after spotting me.

I gulp, waving, "Hellooooo." I say apprehensively.

Will doesn't respond but his face is not one that is happy and his fists are clenched.

Jack Sparrow takes a large exaggerated step away from us, "Well, this isn't going to end well." He says, sitting down and looks at us both, anticipation clearly written on his face.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Annalee." Will says, his voice low and in barely a whisper.

He carefully steps forward and stops right in front of me. His eyes are filled with anger, shock, and disapproval.

"I know that I have no authority over you, but…What do you think you were doing?" He says, completely blowing up. "What on earth were you thinking? How could you do this to your father? He already lost one daughter! Why would you do something so inconsiderate and selfish?"

"Hey!" Thomas shouts, shoving his way between us. "Don't talk to her like that." He says, his voice low and deadly; I get shivers. His words, although simple, are intense with authority and held back anger. "You don't know everything about the situation. I didn't bring you here to reprimand Anna. I brought you here to help us, so calm down."

Will takes a step back, obviously a little shocked but he keeps his composure. He waits a few seconds before peering over Thomas's thick, broad shoulders.

"Who is he again?" He asks impertinently.

I barely manage to hide a smile. Will has more guts than I had previously thought.

Before him stood a man that towers over him by at least four inches and who could easily beat him in a fight should the confrontation arise to such extremes, and yet, Will takes the opportunity to anger him.

Thomas growls and takes a step forward, his fists, stiff and tense.

I quickly jump in between them, holding my hands out to stop him.

Thankfully, Thomas stops walking but gives Will one last dirty stare.

Will returns the favor but, fortunately, Thomas doesn't see him.

"Will," I say reproachfully, "Stop antagonizing him or I will let him introduce your face to the floor."

Will doesn't respond but turns around and takes a seat on a chair beside Jack Sparrow, still a little put off.

Thomas also takes a seat but stays a good two meters away from Will, his arms crossed, and eyeing the other two men in a threatening manner.

Will ignores the glares coming from Thomas and instead looks up at me as I take place behind Thomas' chair.

"I wasn't joking earlier." He says nodding at both Thomas and Greaves, who is still silently sleeping, "Who is these men you are with?"

"This is Thomas. Uh, he is… Mrs. Pirren's cousin's son." I say pointing the blonde head beneath me. "And that is," I nod towards the cot behind us. "uh, his father, **Jack**."

"Annalee, may I speak to you in private?" Will asks, glancing at Thomas to see what his reaction would be.

Thomas doesn't move or speak. And I nod to Will.

He grabs my arm and pulls me to a corner.

"I know it isn't my place to say this, but I think that you shouldn't stay with these men." He says barely above a whisper, "It isn't proper."

I laugh softly, "It isn't like Thomas and I are attracted to each other. We are just friends."

"But what would your father say?"

"Well, since I am in a pirate port, I don't think me being with a young man would be his biggest worry." I tease.

"Anna, be serious. You don't know this man. And don't say you do. Even if he is Mrs. Pirren's cousin's son, which I doubt he is, you still wouldn't have had the chance to get to know him. You aren't very social since you've only just come of age."

"Don't worry. I say, "I'll deal with my father when I return home. I doubt he'll pay much attention to me anyway, since Elizabeth will be back by then. Besides, I know how to take care of myself."

With that, I return the group with Will on my heels.

"What do you need our help for?" Will asks.

I walk to **Jack's** bedside and our two guests follow.

"What's wrong with him?" Will asks.

"We don't really know." I respond, my brow furrowed, and feeling completely helpless. "He seemed to be okay when we arrived here. He was unusually quiet but I thought that it was just from reverence or awe."

Will and **Jack** Sparrow both look at me, confused.

"This place holds a lot of memories for him." I explain quickly, not wanting to go much into detail with the older man's permission.

"How long has he been like this?" Will asks, feeling **Jack's** forehead before snapping back from the heat.

"Well, it was first noticeable the night we arrived, which was last night." I reply. "He is doing better this morning however. He is sleeping more peacefully and his forehead isn't as hot as it was last night."

"I am definitely not a doctor, but have you been giving him anything?"

I nod towards the three leaves lying across the table. "Only two of those leaves last night." I say.

Will picks them up. He inspects them and then passes them to Sparrow. "I have never seen this kind of leaf before. Where did you get it?"

Thomas finally gets up from his chair and makes his way over to our little gathering, "It was from an old medicine cart. There are no more though and this book," He holds up the little medicinal plant book, "says that they don't grow on this island or any around. Traders normally supply them though and they aren't too rare."

I give, Thomas a reassuring smile, thankful that he and Will had put their differences aside at least for now.

Jack Sparrow stands up and walk to the door, "Well, there you are! Buy the leaves and then live happily ever after. Now we must be off. Good night; Good bye; and God bless."

"But we can't!" I say, but Jack is already out of sight.

"Why?" Will asks after it is certain that Jack is not coming back.

Thomas and I explain our situation to him.

"I'd help if I could," He says after we have finished, "But I have no money whatsoever.

I groan and place my head in my hands. _Why has everything that could go wrong, gone wrong? What had we done to deserve this? What had _**Jack**_ done to deserve this?... Nevermind._

"I don't have money, but I have something else that might help." Will says.

My head snaps back up. "What?"

"You... and Thomas, could come with us. You wouldn't have to stay here and I would feel better knowing that you're safe. Your father would agree with me."

"Absolutely not." Thomas says in the matter of a second, crossing his arms.

Will only sighs, but I can't keep silent. Thomas' anger towards Will is getting out of hand. His feelings can no longer be part of any decision. Things are getting just a little too serious for emotions to get in the way.

"Thomas. What Will is suggesting isn't completely absurd. You can't let how you feel determine what you will do. We have to think it over first."

Thomas doesn't move or speak.

I roll my eyes and turn back to Will. "What about **Jack**?" I ask.

"He could come as well. We have a doctor on board so that might help. We can also stop at a few ports and look for the plants there."

"But what if we don't find the plants? What if he gets worse?"

"Well, maybe our doctor can find some other remedy. You could always stay here. When the traders come, you could get some."

"How? We have no money, remember?"

"Well, Thomas could always steal some. That is something people like him do, right?"

As Will says this, I can't help but groan internally. Why was he always trying to make Thomas angry? I wait, cringing, for the explosion that is sure to follow.

Strangely enough, Thomas only laughs half mockingly, and half sadly, "You have no idea." He says simply.

Will and I both glance at each other, completely confused.

When Thomas doesn't explain, Will shrugs and lets it go and I follow suit.

"Fine," I say finally, "We'll come with you. Anything is better than rotting away in this hole of a town."

Both men chuckle and Will gets up.

"Good. I'll inform Jack and the rest of the crew. Thomas knows where to find us. We are leaving within the hour."

I nod as Will slips out the door.

I get up and cross the room, picking up our things and wrapping them.

I turn back to Thomas, who hasn't moved an inch.

"Are you not going to help?"

"No." He replies simply.

"And why not?"

"Because I am not going."

"You know what, Thomas; you are really starting to make me frustrated!" I say, stomping over to him. "You are a selfish, prejudiced, stubborn man. You don't care about **Jack** and you don't care about Elizabeth!"

Thomas stands up, looming over me. "I am not." He says calmly. "You are too trusting. You barely know anything about Will or Jack Sparrow and still you are willing not only to risk your safety, but that of Greaves'."

I can tell that he is trying to intimidate me by his size but right now I am so angry, I would probably stand up to a shark."I know that Elizabeth trusted Will, and Elizabeth was careful. I might not be extremely cautious but at least I am trying to help Greaves. He isn't going to get better just by staying here!"

"So, you would rather risk everything?"

"Yes!" I reply confidently.

"That is so immature and careless!" Thomas starts to get angry.

"What do you think we should do then?" I snap back.

"I don't know. But we shouldn't go off with strangers and trust them with our lives, and Greaves'."

"Well, at least I am doing something other than brooding and getting into arguments." I shout back.

"What do you think we're doing right now?" Thomas fires back.

"Disagreeing, but you wouldn't know the difference, you illiterate prick!"

"Illiterate?" Thomas says.

I cringe at Thomas' voice. I had definitely gone too far.

"Just because I don't have servants to wait on me and an endless supply of tutors doesn't mean that I am stupid and uneducated. I know how to read and write and I have enough knowledge to have successfully fooled you and everyone at that party into thinking that I was one of you."

"I didn't mean it that way." I say more calmly.

"I'm sure you didn't," Thomas says, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Look, we don't have time for this." I say, "Will and Jack are leaving soon. I am going with them and I am bringing **Jack. **You are welcome to join us, if you want. If not, then goodbye."

He clenches his teeth and shakes his head. "I can't believe you're actually going to do this."

I just shrug and finish getting everything ready. I grab the makeshift bag I made from a blanket and rope and stand beside Greaves'cot.

Thankfully, the old man is in a deep sleep and doesn't wake as I wrap him up in a blanket and make him into a pack that I can carry on my back.

I had often seen sailors at the docks in Port Royal do the same thing but with bags of food instead.

Jack was already lean, but the sickness has made him loose even more weight. After a few tries, I manage to tie him to my back, groaning under the weight.

Thomas watches, amused, from the other side of the room.

"He doesn't look comfortable." He says, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, I am sorry that you are not content with how I tied him. I had to do it all by myself. Thank you, very much." I say sharply.

I slowly walk to the door and take one more look at Thomas, whose face is completely blank and expressionless.

"Bye." I say quickly before heading out the door.

I gradually make my way up the street, careful to watch were I am going so I don't end up in the wrong side of town.

Unfortunately, the going is slow, due to **Jack, **and I am left with ample time to think.

I can't believe Thomas actually let me go. I would have never taken him as that kind of person. Sure he was raised by pirates, but he himself said that he was leaving that behind. Right now, I am so confused by him. He says one thing, but another.

Mrs. Pirren has always said to trust someone by their actions and not their words, but that is so hard to do with Thomas. He always speaks with such conviction and in a way that makes you certain of his own belief in the words he speaks.

I brush away a few tears that are threatening to slide down my face and start walking faster, wanting to get out of this port as soon as possible.

The docks are not as crazy as the ones in Port Royal. The board walks are more distant from each other and hardly anyone is around. There is only one merchant ship, whose sailors are unloading the boat, and another ship a little further down the beach.

I walk to it, thankful to see that Will and Jack Sparrow are there.

"Will!" I call.

He sees me and smiles, obviously relieved that I haven't changed my mind.

He takes the sac that I have been carrying and helps me unload Greaves.

Will calls an older man to come and help. The man, who Will called Gibbs, takes Greaves from us and takes him aboard the ship which is much bigger and nicer than I expected. 

It looks strangely familiar, and on closer inspection, I recognize it as the _HMS Interceptor_, from Port Royal.

_That must have been the ship they commandeered. _I think to myself, slightly sad that they had chosen this one. It was known in British towns as the fastest ship in the Caribbean and, unfortunately, it was next to certain that it wouldn't last long in the hands of pirates.

Will leads me onto the ship and shows me to my quarters. I am given the first mate's chamber which is, although small, quite nice. He hands me my sac and tells me that Greaves is in the doctor's chamber and that he will be above deck if I need him.

As soon as he is gone, I quickly unpack my sac, hanging up my two scarves, and setting on the night table my brush and a few other items.

I sit on my bed, not quite sure what to do when I start hearing shouts from above.

I freeze. _Could it be my father's men? Had they found out about my escapade? Or could it be pirates? _

Suddenly, I recognize a voice.

"Anna!" Thomas calls."Anna!"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I jump up from my bed and race up the stairs and onto the deck.

There, where the boarding plank had previously rested, is Thomas, soaked to the bone and being held back by three men, who are desperately, and unsuccessfully, trying to throw him back into the water.

He looks angry at being apprehended and is fighting to get out of their grips.

He finally sees me and, with a single burst of strength, manages to free himself from the men.

He rushes to me, and everyone goes into a frenzy, at least half a dozen men chasing after him, and the rest shouting at me to run.

I stand my ground. Sure, Thomas looks extremely intimidating running at me at full speed, but I know he wouldn't do anything stupid, or harm me in any way… hopefully.

He reaches me with his pursuers only a few feet behind.

"Hello, Thomas." I say coldly.

"Anna." He replies with a nod

The crew finally reaches us and most of them grab hold of Thomas pulling him back towards the edge of the ship.

I watch silently as they manage, at last, to throw him back into the sea.

I slowly walk to the side of the ship and look over at Thomas, who isn't moving or saying a thing. He just stares back at me, his eyes almost apologetic.

I brush off the feeling of pity that starts rising in me and turn away.

I don't know what he wanted with me and I am, strangely, not at all interested with what he had to say. He had abandoned both me and Greaves over his ego. He isn't worth my attention.

I look up to see Jack and Will casually leaning against the mast, both trying desperately to hide their grins.

I don't say anything but quickly return below deck to my room.

I lay down on my cot, determined to get some rest after all that has happened over the past few days.

I jump right back up after a few moments. I can't take this! I can't just sit in my room and pretend that nothing is wrong. As much as I want to believe that Thomas means nothing to me, I can't ignore the fact that it is painful that he wasn't willing to sacrifice his pride for me. What is it with men and their pride? I have yet to meet one who places others above himself and his need for respect. Then again, this is the first time that a man's craving for respect has hit me so hard. Why?

I collapse back on the bed, tears filling my eyes and one by one running down my cheeks.

I know why. It is so hard to admit this but, I think I've fallen in love with Thomas Calder.

Just thinking of it makes me hurt all the more.

Have I gone absolutely insane? Everyone I both know and respect would be either angry or disappointed in me for choosing to give my heart to a pirate. Father would never give me his blessing, Elizabeth would forever be trying to persuade me to forget Thomas, Mrs. Pirren would most likely try to never speak to me again, and… no, that is pretty much all the people that I truly respect.

And he doesn't love, or even respects, me back. To him, I am only a young girl who has yet to learn the ways of the real world. Ironically enough, his rejection of me has taught me more than living in Tortuga ever could.

The world is a cruel place where feelings have to place, where emotions are squashed like insects, and where people cannot expect to find a happy ending.

I hit my fist against the hard cot, my anger suddenly turned against it.

Why would I ever even think that I would get the same happy life that Father and Mother had up until she passed away? Even Elizabeth is set for an unhappy life, married to someone she doesn't love.

Suddenly, I am jolted from my thoughts by a sound. I jump to my feet and listen for it again.

_Scratch. Scratch. _

I jump onto the bed and look around the room, expecting to see a rat or two scurry across the wooden floor.

Hearing the scratching sound for a third time, I realize that it is coming from the wall. I press my year against it, confirming that whatever is making the sound is on the other side of the wall.

I leap down from the bed and, walking through the hallway, find the next door. Opening it, I find that I am in the doctor's chambers.

On one wall are two cupboards, which, upon inspection, are filled with blankets, cloth for wrapping up wounds, tourniquets and bowls and jars filled with different types of roots and leaves.

Beside the cupboards is a desk covered in various kinds of tools: Pincers, gags, various knives, a couple saws…

I shiver thinking of the all the blood, pain, and death that must have at one point filled rooms such as this one.

In the middle of the room is a lone, large table, obviously meant for performing surgeries.

I quickly walk past it, and a couple cots, to the single door on the other side of the room.

I open it, finding myself in a smaller room, this one only holding two cots. The first is empty, the sheets pristine white and perfectly clean. I stare at it, slightly confused as to the quality and cleanness of it. Wasn't this ship a pirate ship? Then I remember that the ship was the _Interceptor_, owned by the government and never used.

I turn to the second, slightly shocked to see someone in it, unsure of whether or not I should leave, or see if they need anything.

"Anna?" A raspy voice says from the cot, "Is that you?"

I relax. It's Greaves.

"Hello, old man." I tell him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. The doctor on board gave me some king of plant that makes me want to sleep, which really helps."

I give Greaves a small smile. It is clear to see that he is in pain, yet he is still trying to act tough and strong.

"So, do you think you'll be up and shouting in the next couple of days?" I ask.

Greaves chuckles, "It might be a little longer than that. The plant you gave me in Tortuga only helped with the fever. There is something else in here, "He shifts onto his side and pats his chest. "That just won't go away. It is almost like a large rock pressing against my lungs, making it hard to breathe."

"What did the doctor say?"

"He will go to the market at the next few ports and get anything that we haven't tried yet." Seeing my anxious expression, he adds, "I am certain that we'll find something. The doctor says that he has treated this before but just doesn't remember what plant he used last time. That is what I am worried about: being experimented on. I don't particularly like feeling like a vegetable, only useful for stuffing things down his throat."

I let out a small chuckle. "I can't wait for you to be better. It has gotten slightly boring not having anyone to argue with."

Greaves starts to smile, but quickly reverts back to his frowning with a grunt of pain.

I cringe along with him, not even trying to imagine how much he must be suffering.

"Do you want me to get the doctor?" I ask

"No, no." He replies, shaking his head, "No need to disturb the doctor. He just went to bed."

"Bed?" I ask, "What time is it?"

Greaves shrugs his shoulders, "The doctor said that it was 19:30. He left around twenty minutes ago, so it must be close to 20:00 now."

My eyes widen. This day has gone by so quickly and I feel as if I haven't accomplished anything. At least in Port Royal, I would have a stitching mastered, a book read, Latin terminology memorized, or a dance step completed. Out here in the world, if you are still alive by the end of the day, you are doing well.

"Were you the one scratching against the wall?" I ask remembering what had initially brought me here.

"Yes." Greaves replies.

"Why"

"I couldn't rest with you pacing loudly, and getting on and off that creaky bed. I was hoping to either scare you into silence or make you curious enough to exit your room"

I turn slightly red from embarrassment.

"I know how you could make it up to me." Greaves says with a sly grin.

I return the smile, "What?"

"You could get me some rum." Greaves answers.

I jump up, thankful to have something to do. I briskly walk through the larger room and out of the door. I start making my way down the hallway leading away from my chamber, opening every door I encounter, trying to find the cellar.

I, unfortunately, meet some strange situations through the doors. In one, I find an older man, completely drunk, singing a love ballad to a bookend. In another, a man is trying to count the number of hooks in a wall, but ends up sprawled on the floor, having had too much to drink.

"Are all pirates constantly drunk?" I ask myself out loud.

"Absolutely." A voice suddenly hisses, right by my ear.

I yelp and jump around, swinging my fist. Unfortunately, my clenched hand makes contact with the man's face before I realize that it is Jack.

I jump back, shocked, "I am so sorry," I gasp.

Surprisingly, Jack doesn't double over in pain, or even rub his cheek which will most certainly bruise and turn purple. "It's all right," He replies with the slur that marks every drunken man's speech. "I was just looking for more rum."

I smile, thankful to finally have a guide and to at last be reprieved of seeing anymore strange occurrences behind the doors.

"So you know where the cellar is?" I ask hopefully.

"Right this way!" Jack replies, swaggering down the hall.

I step up my pace to keep up and soon Jack stops in front of a door, exactly the same as all the others we passed.

_How do they remember where everything is?_

He opens the door and starts going down a few steps.

I follow him into the darkness, feeling my way by trailing my hands against the cool wooden walls.

Jack suddenly stops and I almost run into him.

He doesn't say a thing or move but a light starts to shine.

Jack holds up a lighted lamp and continues on his way.

The light reveals a large room, crowded by occupied hammocks. The men sleeping in them are grossly dirty and many of the shirtless ones reveal strange markings and scars. I spur Jack on anxious to get out of the room, that smelled strangely of blood and urine.

Jack finally stops in front of another door which, after taking down a ring of keys, he proceeds to unlock and open.

We yet again meet another small staircase and finally find ourselves in a cellar, filled to the brim with bottles upon bottles of some sort of drink. Most likely rum.

Jack looks through a few of the them before selecting a large black bottle.

I start riffling through a few trying to determine the differences between them.

I look up to pull my hair back, and find Jack staring intently at me.

"What?" I question.

"Nothing." Jack replies, "Just proud that you are finally letting some of that pirate blood fuel some of your decisions."

I roll my eyes, "Firstly, what pirate blood? And secondly, this is for Greaves, not me."

Jack's head droops, "Too bad. We would have had a dandy time, me, you, and the rum."

I turn back to the pile of bottles, "Just help me pick a bottle."

I hear Jack sigh, but he leans down beside me and quickly picks out a bottle.

I grab it and we both head back to the main hallway.

Once back in relatively clean territory, uncrowded by half naked stinking men, I feel more comfortable.

I thank Jack and we part, him to wherever, and me back to the doctor's quarters.

Back at Greaves' bedside, I see that he is asleep and place the rum bottle gently on the floor by his cot before exiting the doctor's chambers.

Standing in the middle of the long, empty hallway, I start feeling utterly lonely and my mind involuntarily drifts back to Thomas.

At least if he was here, I wouldn't be so lonely. Even with all these sailors on board, I still feel as if I am on my own.

Suddenly, it hits me. I am the only woman on board. I am the only female in a ship load of men. Father would absolutely pass out.

I chuckle internally. Even with all my fantasies of being a pirate captain and sailing the seas, I never realized that I would be in such a strange situation.

I just hope that all these sailors are halfway decent.

The ship suddenly lurches sending me crashing into a wall. I feel bile rise up within me, reminding me of the sea sickness I had on the tiny rowboat only a few days ago.

Suddenly, I have a sudden need for fresh air. I dart back towards my room, past my door, up the steps, and back on the sea sprayed air of the deck. I jump to the side of the boat and lean over, waiting for my insides to gush out.

After a few deep breathes of the chilly salty wind, I relax. The sky is darker than usual and the gale of wind is strong. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I tell myself not stay up here long due to the impending storm.

"Are you all right?" Will asks, suddenly appearing beside me.

I nod. "What are you doing up here? Shouldn't you be down below, resting?"

"I could ask the same about you but your face is utterly green so I don't really have to." After a few moments of silence, he continues, "I couldn't sleep. I keep thinking of Elizabeth. Where she is. What she is doing. What she is thinking. And the fact we might never find her."

"Don't say that." I scold, "We will find her. We have to."

Will only sighs, as if thinking of Elizabeth has completely exhausted him.

"I admit," I say, "with everything going on with Greaves, it has been hard to remember why we are all here in the first place. Then I feel guilty for not thinking of Elizabeth all day, every day. But how can I? Greaves is really sick."

"I know." Will agrees, "I would have thought that when something as large as Elizabeth being missing, happens, the smaller stuff gets left behind. That we would all be able to put our differences aside and work together."

I turn to face him, "But we are. You are a blacksmith, I am the spoiled daughter of a governor, and the rest of the people here are all pirates with such different stories. And yet, we are pulling together, with, of course, the exception of you and Thomas. By the way, I have been meaning to ask. Why didn't you tell the crew that Thomas was one of us? Not that I really care that he was thrown into the sea."

Will lets a small smile slip, "Um, well, I forgot, fort- unfortunately."

I roll my eyes and shove him to the side, sending him stumbling to the side just as the boat pitches forward.

I let out a laugh as Will falls to the ground trying again and again, unsuccessfully, due to the sudden rough waters, to get back to his feet.

My laughter, however, stops as I lose my hold on the railing and am thrown as well, to the floor.

Now, it's Will's turn to laugh.

When the waters calm down enough, we both get back to our feet, cringing in pain from all the bruises we've received having been thrown around.

"I think I should go lie down." I say over the screeching of the wind that has suddenly picked up.

Saying a quick goodnight, I retreat back below decks.

Entering my room, I find that the small cot, that I had been angry with earlier, looks incredibly inviting. I let myself fall onto it, my body not even caring that it is as hard as a slab of rock.

I turn my head towards the small round window on the far wall. Through it, almost nothing can be scene other than the harsh rain beating down upon the glass. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles.

I watch through the window at the storm, debating whether or not I could actually sleep with all the sound.

Lighting flashes again, and I jump up.

Was that a face I saw through the window? I ask myself, my heart beat racing.

I cautiously get to my feet and carefully start walking towards the window. Lighting flashes again and I can distinctly see a face on the other side.

Out there in the fierce storm, someone is hanging on for dear life.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The window suddenly crashes open letting me see who the person on the other side is.

It is Thomas. Thomas is hanging on for dear life, on the side of a ship, at night, in the middle of a storm. He is a madman.

I step back, shocked, and watch silently as Thomas squeezes himself through the tiny window. I hear a popping sound as he dislocated both his shoulders in order to complete that feat. He doesn't even grunt in pain.

I just watch silent, my eyes wide with fright, shock, and awe.

Once inside, he casually pops his shoulders back into place and closes the window.

All I can do is stare, my jaw down to the floor, and my brain temporarily dead.

"What are you doing here?" I gasp after a few moments of both of us just staring at each other.

He doesn't reply but holds out his clenched fist. He slowly opens it revealing a small picture frame, face down.

I quickly pick it up and flip it around, curious. It is the picture of my mother. The one I had brought with me from home.

"I-I thought I had it in my bag!" I gasp.

"I found it on the floor in the house." He explains handing it to me.

"You risked your life just to give me back my picture?" I ask, incredulous, looking back and forth between the picture and Thomas, not sure which one is shocking me more.

"Not voluntarily." He replies with a small smile, "I wouldn't have done it if I had known that there would be a storm."

I stare down at the picture, tears springing to my eyes.

"You would have done the same if I had forgotten my family picture." He says.

"Well, I wouldn't have gotten in the water. I don't know how to swim." I reply, brushing my tears away.

"I guess we'll have to fix that. Besides, I wasn't ever actually in the water. The small rowboat on the side of the ship serves as pretty good hiding spot."

Silence descends upon the room, as we both just stare, him at the floor, and me back at the picture frame, which had amazingly been hardly ruined by the rain. He must have had it griped in his fist the entire time, making his incredible trek that much more dangerous.

"You should get out of those clothes before you catch a cold." I say, breaking the silence that had lasted for a couple minutes.

Thomas nods through his dripping wet hair.

I reach up and brush some of it away but quickly retract my hand, my face turning red.

"Sorry." I lie, softly, "I thought there was something in your hair."

By the way he looks at me, I know he doesn't believe a word I have just said.

I grab a blanket lying on the end of the cot, eager to change the subject.

"Here," I say, holding the blanket out to him, "Use this to dry yourself."

He doesn't take the blanket from me but starts removing his shirt.

"What are you doing?" I yelp.

He looks at me, confused. "Did you want me to try and dry my soaked clothing with that blanket? They, and I, will dry faster if we are separated."

He resumes lifting his wet, clinging, shirt off his back, and I can't help but **STARE**. His arms are muscular, but do not have any grotesque veins protruding from them. His shoulders are broad and thick but don't make his neck look too thick and short. His chest is well chiseled and I see some of the muscles quivering from the cold and the excursion of climbing the side of the ship in the middle of a gale.

Thomas watches my expression and chuckles. I snap out of my drooling and I can feel my face heat up.

"You'd think that you would have never seen a bare-chested man." Thomas says with a grin.

"I haven't." I say, breathily, mostly to myself.

Spotting something thin and white on his left shoulder, I frown.

"Thomas." I say warily, "Please turn around."

He looks at me confused, "What?"

"Turn around." I command, my heart beat racing.

He does, reluctantly, and I can't help but gasp.

Criss-crossing his entire back are a multitude of whipping scars.

"Thomas! What happened to you?" I shout.

"Quiet down!" He whispers loudly, "And it isn't a big deal. Haven't you seen men getting whipped before?"

I shake my head violently. "I thought only pirates did it. And cruel ones at that."

"Actually, I got this aboard an English ship." He explains.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. Pirate captains don't whip their crew. It is mainly government and merchant ships."

I shake my head, "I don't believe you."

"It's true. Pirates normally maroon or dismember."

"Fine, you are telling the truth," I say in an unbelieving tone. "What would you have been doing on a government ship?"

"Obviously, I was making trouble for the captain. I used to do quite a bit of that."

"Wouldn't someone recognize you as a wanted man?"

"Let's just say that Frederick Barrington isn't the first person I've pretended to be."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that I have become proficient at not being myself."

"Are you yourself right now?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no."

"Now you're just toying with me."

Thomas smiles brilliantly at me, "I've missed you."

"It's been less than a day." I state, quizzically.

"I know, it's been way too long."

I return the smile. "I wonder how many women you've managed to impress with that line." I tease.

"Only one, and she seems to like it." He replies, waggling his eyebrows.

"Cover yourself." I grin, pushing him onto the cot. "Your bare chest is too tempting."

The second that comes out of my lips, I gasp and slap my hand over my mouth. I can't believe I just said that!

I can't hold it back and laughter erupts from behind my palm.

Thomas stares at me, amusingly shocked by my comment before joining me in laughter.

I stumble backwards, trying to contain my laughter. I hit the wall and slide to the floor.

"I take what I said in Tortuga back. You would make a wonderful tavern wench." He manages to say between ragged breathes, "You really have a way with words. If I wasn't so strong-willed, I would be panting at your feet."

My eyes widen, but I am in too good a mood to reprimand him.

We eventually calm down, grinning at each other.

"So, will you be going back?" I ask him suddenly remembering our previous disagreement in Tortuga.

"I can't." He replies. "The ship is too far out to sea. I wouldn't be able to swim back and I doubt that Will or Jack would be willing to turn back."

"Right you are." Jack's drunken self says, suddenly appearing in the wide open doorframe. "However, we usually get rid of the garbage at the next port."

"Get out." I say sternly, after getting over my shock. I get up, push Jack back in the hallway and shut the door with a bang.

I turn to find Thomas looking at me strangely.

"What is it now?" I ask

"Nothing, I just find your personality changes endearing."

"My personality changes? What on earth do you mean?"

"One moment you're a haughty, spoiled, pain in the backside and then you do a complete personality switch and turn into a mighty pirate, fearless, or stupid, enough to risk angering those more powerful than you."

"Who could be more powerful than me?" I ask, acting completely innocent.

"Well, Jack, Will, Greaves, even in his state, the crew, me…"

"Ha ha ha." I say mockingly, "I am not as powerless as you say. In fact, I managed to sew up an entire sail." I tease, trying to look serious and genuine, "It was a daunting, overwhelming feat. I doubt you would be able to do such a thing."

"You're incredible."

"What?"

"You are incredible. Here you are in the middle of the sea, surrounded by pirates, off on an adventure to save you beloved sister. And yet, you are not passing out, afraid, or even uncomfortable."

"Oh, believe me. Having more than a dozen males within a few meters of me, the only female, is just a little uncomfortable."

"See! You're making light of everything. You don't let everything that is happening get to you. You know what you have to do and you're determined to do it. Most people, even men, would be completely unsure, anxious, worried, and completely frightened if they were in your shoes."

"Can't you see?" I say, suddenly getting a little agitated. I don't like being labeled as someone who keeps my head because now, people have expectations of me that I probably will be unable to meet. "I am all those things. I am anxious. I am unsure. And I am scared. Just because I don't show them, doesn't mean there are not there. I guess… I guess I am just as good a pretender as you are." I finish with a sigh.

Thomas stands up and takes me into his arms, "You don't have to pretend around me. Please don't pretend around me."

As I breathe in his smell, I realize how much I would have missed him if he hadn't come back to the ship. My loneliness from earlier wasn't because there wasn't anyone to be with. It was because there wasn't Thomas to be with.

And for once, I don't even think about what others would think about me being clasped tightly by a shirtless man. I just take a deep breath and relish the moment and feeling of being in the arms of the man I love.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I wake up with a smile, staring at the roof which is only starting to lighten from the rising of the sun. I am happy. For the first time in a long time, I am content and even happy.

Of course my mind suddenly drifts to my sister and her predicament and I try to squash the notion that I am happy. How could I be happy? I shouldn't be.

I force my face into a frown but the smile pops back up. I take a deep breath and try again. This time, the frown lasts for less than a second.

"What are you doing?" Thomas turns over and looks at me through the slits of his eyes, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly.

"Nothing." I grin. "You go back to bed."

Thomas turns back over and after a few moments, his deep even breathing convinces me that he's drifted off.

I shake my head and stop sleep from coming to me.

Getting up slowly, I grab my shawl and tiptoe out of the room. I walk up to the deck and find that the crew is already up and about, cleaning, fixing, and a couple are wandering around aimlessly, hands jammed in their pockets and mouths whistling, hoping not to get shouted at for not doing anything.

I freeze mentally slapping myself for coming up. I had assumed that it would be empty before sunrise. Actually, I didn't really think at all.

The crew stops and stares at me and I suddenly feel self-conscious in the nightgown which Jack had procured somewhere, bare feet, and loose hair. I slowly retract my feet and try to hide them from view. I wrap the shawl tighter around me and grab my hair, a hard feat considering the wind is blowing it in all direction.

Once my hair is under control, I climb the stairs to the top deck where the wheel is located. No one is there except for the Anamaria, a female sailor who had gruffly shown me around the day before. She wasn't very talkative and brusque but she seemed to care and she is a girl.

"Where are we?" I ask her.

"In the middle of the ocean." She says.

"Very amusing." I say barely containing a smile. She is the first person I've come across who verbally battles with me voluntarily. Plus she is quite handy with sarcasm, a necessity if someone wants to instantly be my friend.

"I'm happy to see that you are so easily entertained."

"Me? You should see Will's face when he sees a sword or when Jack finds a coin. What is it with men and metal?"

"I guess they find it extraordinary that something could be stronger than they are."

"No, I think it's because they are entranced that they found something that is harder than their skulls."

This earns a smile and a nod of acceptance.

"You're pretty smart for a governess' daughter. I mean, you're not completely useless."

"Um... thanks?"

"It was a compliment. Here," She hands me a black hat, "You might want to protect yourself from the sun."

I take it gratefully but am shocked to see how dirty it is.

"Sorry about the dirt." Anamaria says. "It hasn't been used for a long time."

"Well at least we can be certain that the dirt isn't originally from the head of a sailor. What a relief."

I dust most of the dirt off and, cringing, shove the hat onto my head.

"I've never really asked you, but why is Jack letting you on the ship?" I ask, "He seems to be pretty superstitious and isn't it considered bad luck to have a female on board?"

"Actually he really isn't that superstitious. If anyone was, I'd have to say it is Joshamee Gibbs."

"Who is he?" I ask.

"I guess he'd be the first mate. He's the one mainly in charge of the daily happenings aboard the ship and Jack's right hand man."

"Oh, you mean the man that shook his head when he saw me and has been avoiding me ever since?"

"That is probably him. Don't take how he acts and what he says to heart. He just doesn't really like females. Give him time and he'll grow to like you."

"I don't need him to like me. I need him to stop making me feel as if I committed a crime every time he looks at me."

"He puts up with me because Jack has the final say. And because I could pass for a man if it were to ever call for that." Anamaria looks down at my outfit. "You on the other hand couldn't fool a blind man into thinking you're a man."

"This is my nightgown." I defend myself, "I am exactly planning on gallivanting in public with it."

"And what do you think you are doing at this very moment?"

I pause, "Gallivanting, but this doesn't count. We are on a ship, not in port."

"Well, we'll be docking tomorrow sometime so I think it would be wise to be prepared. Cotton!" She shouts to a bearded man with a colorful parrot lighted on his shoulder.

"Take the wheel."

The older man nods and quickly takes the wheel.

I follow Anamaria down the stairs to the main deck and to the cargo hold's entrance, a hole in the floor with a hinged gate covering it.

"Follow me." She says, opening the gate and disappearing into the darkness.

I pick up the hem of my dress and step down on the ladder, carefully closing the gate after me.

I look up to find myself in complete darkness other than the little bits of light coming from the outskirts of the gate.

"Anamaria?" I call.

A light appears and slowly approaches. I quickly descend the final few steps and Anamaria becomes visible, a lantern in hand.

"Come with me." She turns and starts down a corridor.

I follow stumbling over invisible boxes and benches.

"Sorry." Says Anamaria, "I would have brought an extra light but this lantern was the only one I could find in the dark."

"I honestly don't think its the darkness that is the main contribution to my feet failing me." I reply, "What is wrong with me? I was walking perfectly fin yesterday."

"Sometimes, after sleep, you lose your sense of balance. The seas today are also more rough than yesterdays."

"But I was fine on the main deck."

"You could see the ocean and thus subconsciously know when a rough wave was coming. Here you can't see anything so you don't get a warning. It is like standing on one foot. Most people can easily do it with their eyes open. As soon as the eyes shut, however, it becomes infinitely harder to keep your balance."

"That... actually makes sense." I say before tripping over a particularly large box and falling to the floor with a loud crash.

"You alright?" Anamaria turns and looks at me.

"I'm fine." I say, getting to my feet, "I don't think my head is though." I rub the top of my skull, cringing, "Oh, this bump is going to be enormous."

"Don't worry. You won't die."

"That is such a relief."

"Just don't tell Thomas."

"What? Why? What are you talking about? How do you know his name?"

"I just asked around.

She smiles slyly, "I am not oblivious to how much he likes you."

"What are you talking about?" I duck my head, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.

"Yesterday, when he rushed onboard completely soaked from the ocean? Why would anyone do something like that if they weren't completely passionate about something... or someone?"

"You're deluded."

"I'm observant."

"No, you are delusional."

"You're just stubborn."

"He's onboard."

"What?" Anamaria turns swiftly into my path, stopping me in my tracts.

"You mean he's on the ship?"

I nod and we continue slowly walking.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

I roll my eyes, "Sorry, the subject hasn't really come up before now."

"How did he get back on board? Who else knows he's onboard?"

"Um... well, Jack saw him last night but he had obviously been drinking rum so I doubt he remembers much if anything at all."

"Don't count on it. Jack is permanently half-drunk."

"Oh, well. There is nothing he can do about Thomas being onboard now."

"He could have him thrown over again."

I chuckle, "Have you seen the size of Thomas? The only reason he was thrown overboard was because he was caught off guard and tired from having had to hold on to swim to the ship from the dock. Now that he's rested, I am sure that he could take on the entire crew barehanded."

"Rested?" Anamaria sports a coy smile, and I start dreading the next inevitable question, "Where, might I ask, did he rest?"

"Oh, just around."

"Around?"

"Yes."

"You are a horrible liar."

"Fine, he, uh, slept in my chamber." Trying to act nonchalant.

"You're chamber?" She replies calmly he eyes betraying her amusement. "And where exactly in your chamber? From what I know, the cot is probably too small to hold two people, especially when one is his size."

My face grows red and my ears start burning. "On the floor."

"He slept on the floor? Poor him."

I laugh.

Anamaria grins "I am actually surprised that you let him sleep that close to you. Didn't you tell me yesterday that the only time you were allowed to touch a man was when he kissed your hand?"

"I guess being surrounded by criminals has down played my sense of propriety." I tease and Anamaria rolls her eyes

"Here we are." She states suddenly, stopping in front of a door. "This is where we keep all of our supplies other than food such as ropes, hinges, fixing supplies and, of course, clothing."

She pushes on the large door and it slowly creaks open.

"Most ships don't use this storage room since they normally have everything they need on the main deck or laying around." She explains. "However, since this is a brand new government ship, they must have stocked it with some luxuries.

Holding up the lantern she walks around the room moving things around searching for something.

"Here." She says picking something up. It is a fairly small crate that has been sealed. "These are some extra uniforms."

She takes out a knife from her belt and proceeds to open the box. After taking off a few layers of packing material, the uniforms appear: Pristine white trousers, with equally brilliant blue coats and white undershirts.

Anamaria doesn't move or say anything. Her eyes locked on the treasure.

"These are ridiculous." She states picking up a thick coat. "Why would anyone wear one of these? They look hot and heavy and shout 'I am wealthy. Come and steal all I own.' Plus these clothing wouldn't last an hour." She reaches into the crate and pulls out a pair of white trousers. "Do you have any idea how fast something white gets dirty on a ship. For crying out loud, black gets stained after only a few minutes."

I giggle. "They are pretty impractical. But what else do we have?"

"I don't know but you are definitely not going to wear these. What about what you were wearing yesterday?"

"It isn't too impractical? I mean, the skirt hit my feet and I had to lift it every time I needed to walk up a flight of stairs."

"We could shorten it." She replies, holding up the dagger.

"Absolutely not. It was my mother's."

"Then we will have to improvise. Let's go to your room." She shuts the crate and slides it back towards a wall.

We exit the room and walk down the hallway again towards the exit, this time faster and in silence. Crossing the main deck, I lead Anamaria to my chamber door where I signal for her to stay put so that I can quickly and quietly grab my clothing without awakening Thomas.

Slowly opening the door a crack, I am surprised to find the chamber empty. Swining the door wide open, I motion Anamaria to enter.

I hand her my satchel where I had stuffed my clothing when I had changed into my nightgown the night before.

She opens it and takes out my skirt, top, and boots.

"You actually wear these?" She asks, holding up the boots. They are quite nice, the leather being the finest and the design impeccable. "They don't look that comfortable."

"Compared to the shoes I am usually obligated to wear, they are heaven."

"Stay here." She commands leaving the room.

A few minutes later, she returns with a burlap sack. Emptying it on the bed, she reveals a black piece of material, thread, and a needle.

"Where did you get these?" I ask.

She grins, "Jack's cabin. He won't miss them." Handing me the black cloth, she picks up the needle and thread. "You know how to sew, right?"

I nod.

"Just sew these two sides together." She says, "I'll be right back."

She disappears through the door. Carefully measuring the thread, I start the chore. It takes around twenty minutes to finish and by that time, Anamaria returns holding out a red scarf, a pair of boots, an old belt, and a pair of dark brown trousers.

"Crew donation." She explains.

She closes the door behind her and, inspecting my work, she looks impressed, "This is actually pretty good."

I smile, proud of my sewing. It was definitely the best I've ever done.

Anamaria then makes me stand in the middle of the room. She starts moving around me, like a tailor, taking measurements with her hands.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I have no idea. When I was younger, I saw a lady do this and I am assuming that it is proper manners."

I laugh.

Finish her "measuring", Anamaria hands me the skirt and top before turning around.

I let my nightgown fall to the floor, pooling and my ankles before quickly donning the skirt and top.

"I'm done." I announce.

Turning back to face me, Anamaria holds out the brown trousers which I slip on underneath the skirt, and the black boots, which I shove my feet into, reveling in the softness of the leather.

"These are so comfortable and spacious!" I say.

"Much better than your old boots, right?"

"Absolutely."

"These pieces are the most important." Anamaria states, tying the red scarf around my waist and buckling the belt on top. "The belt will serve as a tourniquet should the need arise and the red scarf will act as a bandage if you ever get hurt. I picked red as to mask the blood."

She steps back, "There all finished. You had better put your cape back on; it is still a bit chilly."

I turn to pick up my cape, which is lying on the cot, when Will rushes into the room, out of breathe, urgency written all over his eyes. "I've been looking all over for you!" He gasps

"What wrong?" I ask

He takes a few deep breathes, trying to calm himself. "It's Greaves." He manages to sputter out.

"Yes? What about him?" I say, fearfully.

"He's almost gone."


	17. Chapter 17

The year we came to Port Royale, I was only nine years old. I was used to London, were the clouds hung permanently overhead and the fog squeezed it way into every nook and cranny. I loved it there. The rain, the cold, the bright fires, the hot drinks and the warm fur coats.

However, I wasn't particularly sad or angry that we were leaving the city that had always been our home. The first day we arrived, I thought I was in paradise. Father was too busy orchestrating the servants to notice Elizabeth and I. Our life-long nanny, Mrs. Pirren had disappeared to our new bedrooms to help the maids clean and dictate where all our belongings went.

Lizzie and I had taken off our shoes and stockings and run into the large garden at the back of the house. There were no flowers, only tall hedges, bushes and trees. Being used to the cobblestone streets of the city, we thought we had stepped into a fairy tale and where now in a magical land. For the first five minutes, we had only stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

We spent hours running around in the grass, playing hide-and-seek, and Fairies, a game that had us pretend to be fairies, flitting about.

That day was also the first day that I ever climbed a tree. I had felt so strong, so powerful, being able to overcome an object at least five times my height.

As the sun began to set, we tired of our games and only sat on the grass watching the bluest sky we had ever seen. London had always been overcast and the sky was only viewable for a couple months of the year. Even then, it could never compare to the sky here.

The sounds of the servants milling about had stopped and we waited, expecting for someone to come out and call us in either for dinner, or for bed.

We were happily surprised that no one came out. For the next four hours, we continues playing and enjoying the garden.

That is until the time reached midnight. We heard the grandfather clock's gongs from the garden and stared at eachother, socked and extatic. This was the first time that we had ever staid up so late.

Our happiness, however, did not last long. Two minutes later, the back doors of the mansion flew open and a frantic crowd emerged. Servants, Mrs. Pirren, and my father came barreling in the garden.

It turns out that they had been searching for us since sundown and had scoured the entire town of Port Royal before realizing that the garden at the back of the house had been left unsearched.

We were brought in to the house and sent directly to our rooms. We knew a punishment was coming our way but for a strange reason, Father left us alone for the next few days.

Those days where some of the hardest of my life in regards to patience. I have never been a patient person and it was torture for me to wait in silence for my father's verdict. Waiting for a surprise is one thing; waiting for something bad to happen, is completely different.

During those days, I remember wishing that we had never left London. I was young and...stupid. Like all young children, I thought that it was the end of the world. I believed that if we had never come to Port Royal I wouldn't be in trouble. Then again, I probably would have gotten into some other kind of trouble if we had stayed in England.

That was the last time that I preferred London over Port Royal. Until now.

It is only now that I've lived in the Caribbean for around seven years that I realize how good life was in London.

There they had the most beautiful fashions. Here, we get clothing that are, for the most part, already outdated there. There they had countless plays and performances that we had occasionally attended. Here, we make do with staying at home reading, singing, or playing the piano. There... they had doctors that could cure almost anything. Here, we aren't so lucky.

Greaves' face is cold to the touch but moist with sweat. He is calmly sleeping but every breathe he takes is laboured and slow. Watching him like this is like watching a corpse that has yet to stop breathing.

I take his worn leathery hand in mine and rub them softly, trying to heat his stiff fingers.

"Is there anything at all that you could possibly do?" Thomas asks the doctor.

Doctor Walters shakes his head solemnly. "I am sorry. It is only a matter of time before he leaves."

I look up surprise, "But Greaves told me that you had treated this illness before and pretty much knew what to do."

The doctor looks taken aback, "I've never seen anything even similar to this illness in my life." He says incredulous, "Why on earth would he say such a thing?"

I shake my head, unable to answer.

"Greaves," I whisper to the still form, almost choking the words out, "Why did you lie? Why did you make sure that we wouldn't truly worry until it was too late? How could you be so stupid?"

Thomas puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. I lay my head down on his shoulder and will myself not to cry.

"Is there anything you could give him to ease the pain?" Will asks from the corner of the small room.

I turn in surprise, unaware that he had even entered the room. He looks back at me, sympathy clouding his eyes. I give him a sad smile and turn back to Greaves.

I don't know how much time goes by. Everyone comes and leaves at intervals but Thomas and I stay, sitting still and silent.

By the time I realize that multiple hours have gone by, the sky outside is dark and my legs have fallen asleep.

"What are we going to do?" I whisper to myself.

Thomas pulls me tighter to him, "I don't know." He replies, "I really don't know. Can we do anything?"

We fall into calm, not knowing what we could say that that would help the situation.

"Annalee?" A raspy, hoarse voice breaks the silence.

I jump in surprise and grab Greaves' hand. "Hey." I choke out, a single tear sliding down my cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't blame the doctor." He does not even acknowledging my question. "No one could have saved me. It wasn't even a matter of time." He manages to whisper, his words barely understandable.

I get to my feet, surprised at what he is asking. How could he be so forgiving? "Of course I am going to blame the doctor." I state, "It is his fault that –"

"Annalee." Thomas cuts me off.

I look down to see that Greaves isn't paying any attention at all. He isn't moving and his loud breathes have disappeared. His eyes lie open and still and his chest is unmoving.

"Greaves?" I say, even though I know he won't hear me. "Greaves, please wake up." My eyes fill up and I can feel myself about to collapse. "Greaves. Greaves!" I won't give up. "Please, answer me,"

"Thomas!" I whirl around to find that he hasn't moved an inch but now, a single tear streak marks his face. "Do something!"

He just shakes his head, "Annalee-"

"Do not 'Annalee' me!"

Thomas stands up and reaches for my hand. I slap him away but he only grabs my entire self and presses me to him.

I fight his grip for a few moments before exhaustion overcomes me. I grab on to Thomas with whatever strength I have left.

"Why, Thomas? Why?" I blubber into his shirt.

He doesn't answer, which leaves more space for my crying which I involuntarily intensify.

_Why did he have to leave? Why? Why? He didn't do anything wrong! ... He didn't do anything very wrong._

Thomas strokes my back, attempting to calm me down. His soft voice and the rhythmic strokes eventually calm me down.

My tears still come but my sobs have disappeared, replaced by shallow breaths.

My eyes grow heavy and Thomas carefully takes me up in his arms.

My eyes are closed but I can tell that he is leaving the room, walking in the hallway, through a few twists and turns and finally to my door.

The door squeaks as it is slowly pushed open.

Thomas slowly places me on the bed and covers me with a blanket.

My eyes stay closed, almost as if they open, I would have to face the tragedy of Greaves' passing.

Thomas slowly exits the room, closing the door behind him. I hear him lean on the door and a few gentle sobs escapes him.

Most men would be ashamed of such a thing, but Greaves' was Thomas' father. I would think less of him if he didn't show a little emotion and cry.

Thomas' walks away and I wait until his footsteps have disappeared.

I wait...

And wait...

And wait...

Until it hurts too much to hold it all in.

Until the pain searing through my chest grows too large.

Until I realize that tears do not represent weakness.

And I weep.


	18. Chapter 18

The next morning, I find Thomas by the railing of the ship. My nightgown still on, I wrap my shawl tightly around my shoulders. My bare feet quiver at the cold of the wet wood from the light rain we had during the night. I push as much hair as possible behind my ears only to have it whip back into my face seconds later.

My eyes, red and puffy, and my voice promising to quiver, I walk over to Thomas' side.

He doesn't acknowledge my presence, but keeps on staring out over the large empty sea.

"Hello." I say, after a few moments of what seems to be a peaceful silence.

"What more do you want?" The anger and hatred in his voice is apparent, and takes me completely by surprise. His cheeks are dry, yet his eyes are red. He must have cried last night as I was sleeping.

"I don't know what you mean." I answer nervously, unsure as to what to expect.

He turns sharply towards me, a scowl on his face. His blond curls fall messily onto his forehead, only contributing to his maddened look.

"Yes, you do." He sneers with utter disgust before turning to leave.

I grab his arm before he can get too far and swing him back to face me.

"No, I don't." I state firmly.

Thomas wrenches his arm from my grip before leaning in close to me, his face not three inches from mine. "You took Greaves." He hisses through his teeth, his eyes dark his face etched into an angry frown, "What more do you expect to be given?"

I pull back from his intense gaze, flabbergasted. "Wha-? Are you actually blaming me for what happened to Greaves? You heard what the doctor said, it was probably some type of poisoning." My confusion quickly turns into anger and my defences immediately go up, "Besides, it was Greaves' idea to go and find Elizabeth in the first place!" My anger is burning high and I can almost feel smoke coming out of my ears.

"If you hadn't snuck into the cave all those years ago, he wouldn't have met you and would still be living peacefully!" Thomas retorts, his self-control completely abandoning him.

"That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard! And oh, as if you ever wanted me to stay away! If I remember correctly, you are the one that deliberately disobeyed Greaves and lied to everyone in order to attend my coming out ball!"

"I was blinded by infatuation!" Thomas protests. "I was young and stupid."

"That was barely a month ago!"

"Well, lets just say that you grow up quite a bit when you are manipulated and tricked and then have everything you love ripped away from you."

"Manipulated?" I am utterly furious, "Tricked? You, sir, do not have your facts straight. I didn't 'manipulate' you into helping me. I did not 'trick' Greaves into coming up with the plan. If anything, it was you and Greaves who manipulated me into lying to my father and leaving my home only so that you could have an 'adventure'."

"Oh, so now your blaming a dead man."

"Agh!" I groan. "Why must you take my every word and twist it into something the complete opposite?"

"I just say things the way they are and I never asked to take part in such a wasteful adventure. I never asked for you to become friends with Greaves or myself."

"Yes, well that may be true but you were not exactly doing everything within your power to push me away! And wasteful? Ha, just because there is nothing in it for you, you claim that it has no purpose. You did not have to join us. You did not have to help. In fact, I would not mind it in the slightest if you left us at the next dock. In fact, I wish you would!"

I twist on my heel and stomp away.

_Why does he blame me for something that was completely out of my control! Greaves's death was not my fault! It wasn't... Right?_

I push my thoughts of doubt out of my mind and walk straight up to the upper deck. Anamaria is no longer steering and in her place stands Jack. He stands tall, unmoving, his hat perched casually on the top of his head. So nonchalant that you would never have guessed that death crowded every corner of the ship.

"Find the nearest port." I tell him before face out to the front of the ship. If I don't ask, if I demand, he won't be able to say no.

"Found one! It is a few miles to the west. Is that all you wanted, sweetheart?" Jack says displaying as much seriousness as he can muster. Yet, I know his too well and can see right through his act to the mocking.

"Jack, dock at the nearest port. Now." I scowl, my voice deep and hopefully intimidating.

Jack doesn't look as frightened as I had wished but he looks at me as if he actually sees me and cares.

"Why, Anna?" He asks almost reluctantly, as if he knows my answer.

"We have some old things to throw out." I reply, sullenly, "And don't ever call me sweetheart."

As the docks come into view, I look down to where Thomas still stands at the railing. He has barely moved and even from the side, I can tell that he is still scowling. His shirt billows in the wind and I bet that goose bumps cover his arms. Yet, he is too stubborn to get his cloak. Too unwilling to show any sign of weakness even if it is only common sense.

_It is better this way. _I tell myself. _With Thomas out of the way, I will be able to fully concentrate on finding Elizabeth. _

And yet, I know that it is not the right thing to do.

But as the town and its docks loom closer and closer, I know that I can't back down. Just like Thomas, I can't look weak. And I will not waste the time spent coming here. I will not waste the time that could have been spent getting closer and closer to Elizabeth. I will do what I have to do, even if it is done with a heavy heart.

Finally, Thomas sees the town, ever approaching and realization hits his face. He knows why we are here.

_"I would not mind it in the slightest if you left us at the next dock. In fact, I wish you would!"_

He looks up to where I stand and he nods, ever so slowly, in acceptance, and maybe even gladness of what I am doing, of what he will be doing.

He straightens up and heads back down to the hull, most likely to pack his things.

Jack, having seen our little exchange says, "Are you sure?"

"Please don't question me, Jack." I say, unable to keep my voice void of sadness. "Not now. Not when his leaving is imminent."

"Not that I am complaining that he is leaving, but you do realize that you will be the hardest person to be with when he is gone, right?"

I ignore his comment, probably because I know it is true. Thomas is the one person who can calm me when I am angry, who can make me feel like I am at home in the middle of the ocean, who will protect me with everything he has, even his life. And I am sending him away.

An hour or so later, we pull into the docks. They are not as new and clean as Port Royal but at least are not as dilapidated and run-down as Tortuga's. A few shipyard workers glance our way in curiosity but quickly look back to their work. Only two other merchant ships are docked and by the noisy crowds surrounding them, it is obvious that the trading must have already begun.

Thomas is at the boarding plank with with very few possessions in a sac. I struggle to keep a solemn face and manage to keep myself from moving or signalling a goodbye. With one final glance up at me, he slowly exits the ship, his footsteps, slow yet assured.

I look up over the docks to the town, where nicely built shops and homes stand. Although they look fairly old, they seem to be fairly clean and well-maintained. Exotic plants and flowers spot the unkempt, yet controlled, yards and the roads are paved with cobblestone which is in incredibly good condition.

Leaving Thomas in an unknown town might not be the kindest thing but there are much worse places to be "marooned" and he will most likely find work soon and be able to go wherever he wishes to go.

Suddenly, I am aware of the strange looks I am receiving from the inhabitants of the town. A group of dock workers are gathered by the edge of the boat and are having a lively conversation while all have their eyes locked on me.

As Thomas walks by, he manages to hear at least part of the conversation. His eyes grow wide and his fists clench and unclench as if readying himself to throw himself into the group before fighting his way out.

Just as it seems that he will let out a mighty roar and teach the crowd of men a lesson, he looks up at me. His expression softens and with a shake of his head, he relaxes and carries on off the docks and down the main road of the town, most likely in pursuit of an inn.

Tears well up in my eyes as I watch his retreating back. He doesn't even respect me enough to defend my honour which I am sure was being threatened by the remarks made by the crowd of uncouth men.

I turn my attention back to the gawkers, trying to figure out what it is that they find so interesting about me. It is then that I realize that I am still dressed in my nightgown. My thin, billowing nightgown that is wet in some locations from the sea spray and my tears.

I feel my face burn a deep scarlet from ear to ear and I know that I can not really blame the men for whatever comments they made about me.

I grab my shawl and make haste to exit the top deck and go below deck, the mens' laughter nipping at my heels. Once I have retreated into the hull, I can't help laugh at my predicament. Through my pain and tears, I let out a might guffaw and I get lost in the world of laughter.

For what seems like hours, I roll on the ground, pain-filled tears mixing with tears of laughter and my white nightgown turning grey. Once my laugh starts sounding forced, I pull myself up into a sitting position and take a deep, relaxing breath thankful for a moment of silent peace.

What would Father and Elizabeth have to say about my situation if they were here? Would they say that I made a mess out of things like I usually do? That I was a failure? That I was an embarrassment since I couldn't even accomplish a single task? Or would they say that I made the best out of what I had? That no one could have done a better job? That I was doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing?

I get to my feet and lean back against the wall. When had things become so complicated? When had the plan become more than just "Find Elizabeth"? When had I started to feel so alone... so, so alone.

I slowly make my way through the halls and into my chamber. It is so clean that it is hard to imagine that anyone was in here, least of all Thomas. He completely stripped it of its memory of him and now I would be utterly alone, without even the scent of him trailing in the air.

I quickly strip off my nightgown and gingerly lay it on the bed. I don't think I could ever wear that thing again.

I pick up the outfit that Anamaria had put together for me and put it on, not forgetting the red bandana or the belt.

I turn to leave and out of the corner of my eye, I see something gleaming poking out form the covers of my bed. I pull back the sheets to reveal a pistol. A small, clean, unscratched pistol.

In curiosity, I pick it up and carry it out with me to the deck.

When I reach the deck, the ship has already departed from the town and the docks are at least a mile away.

I make it up the flight of stairs to the upper deck, two steps at a time and plop the the weapon in front of Jack.

"You know, it isn't very polite to enter a woman's chamber and start leaving your things around." I tell him.

He looks down at the pistol before looking back up to see. "Not mine, although I wish it. This must be one of the nicest, well-crafted pistols I have ever seen."

I take it back. "Well, if it isn't yours, where is Will?"

"It isn't mine." Will says from behind me. He pulls back his cloak to reveal his own small firing weapon, "See? I have mine right here. I don't know whose that is, but I saw Thomas carrying a similar one around. Can I see it?

I pass it over and wait as Will carefully inspects every inch of it.

"Are you trying to make us look like fools?" He asks after a few minutes.

"What on earth are you talking about?" I reply, getting quite annoyed at everyone questioning everything I do.

Will simply hands it back over to me, pointing at something. Taking a closer look, I see that something has been engraved. Turning the pistol so that it catches the best light, I can make out a name. MY name.

_Annalee_

Thomas_._ Even after all I had done and said to him, and even after he was gone, he was still protecting me, still caring, still loving.

With Greaves dead, and Thomas gone, I have no one else. No one else who truly understands the pain I have gone through, am going through. No one else who has been there since the beginning. No one else I can fully trust.

_Oh,Thomas, what have I done?_


	19. Chapter 19

Jack keeps me so busy for the next day or so that I have no time whatsoever to think of anything but catching up to the Black Pearl and Barbossa, the pirate that took Elizabeth.

I appreciate the lack of time to think of things such as Thomas and Greaves but some of the work that Jack has me doing is plain ridiculous.

"Sweep the deck." Jack says, almost dropping the bottle of rum in his hands as the rough waters pitch the _Interceptor_ forward.

"Jack, the deck is sopping wet."

"Then mop it."

"The deck is as clean as it will ever be. Besides, three of your crew have already done so."

"Then you can feed the parrot."

"And risk the chance of losing a finger. I would rather not."

"A finger won't be the only thing you risk losing if you don't shape up and find something useful to do!" Jack says exasperated, before being thrown to the floor as a particularly large wave hits the side of the boat.

"I don't know why you drink so much rum when you are on deck." I say, mostly to myself, "It is almost as if you want to have an affair with the ground."

All of a sudden, the waters quiet and the boat drifts peacefully into a dark lagoon.

Jack leaps to his feet and chuckles, "We are almost there." He says before rushing to the top deck.

Seeing most of the crew rushing for the side of the boat, I find a place beside Will and Gibbs, the woman hater. The waters are covered with wrecks strew everywhere.

"Puts a chill in the bones how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage." Gibbs says into the silence.

Will however, isn't paying much attention. I turn to see what he is looking at and watch as Jack quickly snaps his compass shut when he realizes that Cotton, the man who owns the parrot and is unable to speak , stares at him too much.

"How is it that Jack came by that compass?" Will asks.

"Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta." Gibbs replies.

"Wait. Treasure?"

"Jack hasn't told you?" Gibbs replies, "I may not like having a female on board this ship but I believe that you deserve all the information."

I lean forward, waiting for the story.

"The Isla de Muerta, the Island of Dead, is a natural fortress that holds treasure of many shapes, and forms. From silver statues to silver crowns, to gowns of silk and jars of spice. None has seen true wealth till their eyes have beheld the wonders of the Isla de Muerta. Anyways, the treasure belonged to the infamous Cortez. Have you heard of him?"

I nod my head, "I learned that in my history lesson."

Gibbs looks at me quizzically before continuing his tale, "The pride of all of the treasure was the Aztec gold pieces. Eight-hundred and two identical gold coins were delivered in a stone chest to Cortez by the Aztecs. A payment, a plea, to end the slaughter he had started of their people with his great armies. However, this was not enough. Cortez was unable to be satisfied and the persecution. So the heathen gods of the Aztecs placed a horrible curse on the gold pieces. Any mortal that takes even a single golden piece from that chest of rock shall be terribly punished for all eternity."

"I am sorry, Gibbs, but I don't believe in curses."

Gibbs looks at me with sad eyes, "Aye, but you will, Miss Swann. You will."

I brush aside his foreboding comment. "But what does that gold have to do with Jack, Barbossa, Elizabeth, or the Black Pearl?"

"Well, when Jack first appeared in Tortuga with the treasure on his mind, it was long before I met him, back when he was Captain of the Black Pearl."

Will looks stuck, "What? He failed to mention that."

"Well, plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was. See three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share. That should mean the location of the treasure too. So Jack gives up the bearings. That night, there was a mutiny. Then the first mate led the rest of the crew to the Isla de Muerta where they took the gold pieces and spread them around the Caribbean, spending them on food and wine and frivolities. It was only when most of the gold was lost that they began to change."

"Change?" I ask.

"Yes, Miss Swann. Change. As they consumed more and more foods and drinks bought by the cursed gold, they realized that they could no longer taste anything, feel anything. Food became ash, and their skin no longer felt the spray of the sea or the whipping of the wind. They were as the dead and at night, they truly finish the transition."

Gibbs pauses as if contemplating whether or not to subject my ears to what he has to say.

"Go on, Gibbs." I prod, "I deserve to know."

"When moonlight touches them, they turn into living ghosts, stripped of skin and sinew. Only bones."

"Gibbs," I say after a few moments "If I wanted a bedtime story, I would have stayed in Port Royal."

Gibbs starts to argue but Will, thankfully, interrupts, "What did they do to Jack after the mutiny?"

"They marooned Jack on an Island and left him to die but not before he'd gone mad with the heat."

"So that is the reason for all the... uh, strange behavior." Will says.

Gibbs shakes his head, "Reason's got nothing to do with it. Now Will, and Miss, when a man is marooned, he is given a pistol with a single shot, one shot. Well, it won't do much good hunting or to be rescued. But after three weeks of starvin' belly and thirst, that pistol will start to look _real _ friendly. But Jack, he escaped the island, ,and he still has that one shot. Oh, but he won't use it, though, save for one man... His mutinous first mate."

"Barbossa," Will and I say in concordance, having come to the same conclusion.

"Aye."

"But how did Jack get of the island?" I ask Gibbs.

Gibbs leans forward and it is quite obvious that this part of the story is the one that he garners the most pride and joy from. "Well, I'll tell ye. He waded out into the shallows and there he waited three days and three nights till all manner of sea creatures came and acclimated to his presence. And on the fourth morning, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, lashed 'em together and made a raft."

"He roped a couple of sea turtles?" Will says, unbelieving and I can tell that we are having the same thought.

"Aye, sea turtles." Gibbs confirms.

"What did he use for rope?"

"Human hair." Jack suddenly appears behind us. "From my back."

Turning to a few dawdling crew members, he shouts, "Let of the anchor! Young Mr. Turner and I are to go ashore."

"What about me?" I ask following Jack as he maneuvers through the working crew, dodging thrown rope and crates.

"What about you?" Jack replies, ducking under a barrel being hoisted by two men.

I follow him under the barrel, "I am coming with you."

Jack laughs, "You will do no such thing."

I grab his arm just as he is about to climb to the top deck. "My sister is there. I _will_ go to her and if you don't let me come with you, I will take another raft. And if the crew won't let take a raft. I will swim and let me tell you something: I am a very good swimmer. I will reach shore and I will do everything within my power to save my sister and deliver you back to the warden at the Port Royal Prison."

Jack yanks his arms from my grip. "Fine. But you must obey my every command. It isn't just your sisters life _or_ your finger at risk here."

As the anchor hits the bottom of the sea, the ship jolts to a stop and a raft is lowered.

I watch from Gibbs side as Will climbs down the side of the ship and into the boat. Jack quickly follows and I come after him. Will just glares at Jack in disparagement.

As the raft is unattached and Will starts rowing the boat to shore, Gibbs calls out, "Captain! What if the worst should happen?"

"Keep to the code." Is Jack's only reply.

He then turns to me and pulls out a long dagger from his boot. "Do you still have the pistol?" He asks.

I nod and pull up my cape to reveal the pistol attached to my belt.

"Good." He a says, "Try to use the pistol if need be but should anything happen, it is a good thing to have a more manual weapon."

I take the knife and its sheath from his hand shakily and attach it to the inside of my boot with a nifty miniature belt.

Seeing my frightened expression, Jack says, "Unfortunately, it is too late to go back, but don't worry. The weapons are only for precautions. Nothing will happen."

I let myself relax.

"Probably." He adds and then laughs at my sudden shock. Finally noticing Will, he mutters in disgust and takes the oars, starting to row us twice as fast.

Will seems a bit put off but that the opportunity to observe his surroundings. Looking down in the water he sees a nearby skull.

"What code is Gibbs to keep if the worst should happen?" He asks warily.

"Pirate's Code." Jack replies, "Any man that falls behind is left behind."

"No heros among thieves, eh?"

"You know, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates you're well on your way to becoming one. Sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the Fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out of Tortuga,"

Will leans over the ship, a pile of gold attracting his attention, "And," Jack continues as the raft hits shore and he jumps out, "You're completely obsessed with treasure."

Will leaps over onto the rocks, holding out his hand and helping me out as well.

I had known that Will had done all these things but hearing them said out loud makes them so much more real, so much more frightening. What would Elizabeth say once she found out the lengths that Will Turner had gone through to find her? Would she thank him for it? Or would she find him dishonest and want nothing more to do with him?

Jack motions for us to follow him into a cave and we walk for a few minutes, through the damp darkness, feeling the walls for direction. "That's not true." Will argues, "I am not obsessed with treasure."

Pressing a finger to his lips, Jack carefully climbs a small slope. Will and I follow close behind and from the top, we can see the main cavern of the cave. An enormous room covered in piles of treasure. And in the middle, on a literal mountain of gold, lies the stone chest filled with Cortez's gold pieces with Elizabeth behind.

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate." Jack says motioning to where my sister stands, behind the stone chest and with Barbossa holding her captive.


	20. Chapter 20

"Gentlemen!" Barbossa calls in the large crowd of pirates. Even from up here, I can see every scar, smell every rank smell. And there is a lot of rankness to smell. "The time has come! Our salvation is nigh! Our torment is near at end!"

"Elizabeth." Will says, finally spotting her. She is dressed in a dark burgundy dress that exposes such skin that would have Father passing out.

Barbossa continues his tirade, "For ten years we've been tested and tried."

"Really?" I whisper to Jack, grinning and giddy at having finally reached out goal, "I couldn't tell through all the dirt and wounds and the smell... oh the smell!"

Jack grins back.

"And each man jack of you here has proved his mettle a hundred times over and a hundred times again!" Barbossa says as a cheer rises from the dozens of figures below. "Punished, we were, the lot of us-disproportionate to our crimes!" He kicks off the stone chest's lid revealing the blinding gold pieces of Cortez, "The cursed treasure of Cortez' himself. Every last piece that went astray, we have returned! Save for this." He says, pointing to the last coin, being used as a medallion around Elizabeth's neck.

"Jack!" Will hisses, scrambling up trying to get to my sister, upsetting some of the treasure as well.

"No yet." Jack replies, yanking him back to the ground. "We wait for the opportune moment.

Barbossa's voice rises again, "Eight hundred and one we found but despaired of ever finding the last.

"When's that?" Will argues, upset at being restrained, "When it's of greatest profit to you?"

"May I ask you something?" Jack says, trying to calm Will down, "Have I ever given you reason not to trust me? Do us a favor? I know it's difficult for you, but please stay here and try not to do anything stupid." He gets to his feet, "Both of you." He finishes before turning around and walking back the way we came.

Will follows him after a few moments but I don't dare move. I don't dare let Elizabeth out of my sight.

"And who among us has paid the blood sacrifice owed to the heathen gods?" Barbossa calls out to his men.

"Us!" I deafening cry rises from the crowd.

"And whose blood must yet be paid?" He asks.

"Hers!" They respond.

Barbossa leans back, obviously proud of his men's loyalty, "You know that first thing I'm going to do after the curse is lifted? Eat a whole bushel of apples."

He takes a dagger and calls, "Begun by blood, by blood undone."

My heart hammers in my chest. My breathe is gone and my mind freezes.

I am frozen in the spot, unable to do anything. Not call out for Will or Jack. Not call Elizabeth's name for what seems to be the last time.

Barbossa reaches for Elizabeth's hand and cuts her palm clean open, letting the blood flow onto the last medallion.

Faintly, I can hear Elizabeth gasp, "That's it?"

Barbossa's reply cannot be heard from my position as he drops the final coin onto the rest in the chest. No ones moves. I doubt any of them dares to breathe.

After a minutes, one of the pirates, a black man with long matted hair, walks forward, "Did it work?"

Another pirate, this one scraggily and skinny, speaks up, "I don't feel no different."

The man right beside him turns to Barbossa, "How do we tell?"

Barbossa swiftly takes out and shoots the man in the chest. Elizabeth's eyes grow wide but she doesn't make a sound. However, in my shock, I let a squeak of surprise and garner a few questioning looks from the crowd. Thankfully, the stones surrounding me are placed in a way that the can't see me.

The pirate that was shot still stands and the first man, Matted-Hair says, "You're not dead."

"No." The pirate replies happily then turns to Barbossa accusingly, "He shot me!"

Every one ignores him and the skinny pirate speaks up, disappointed, "It didn't work."

"The curse is still upon us!" Another pirate calls out.

Furious, Barbossa turns to Elizabeth, "You, maid! Your father, what was his name? Was your father William Turner?

_Maid? William Turner? What does the curse have to do with Will?_

Elizabeth straightens up and looks the pirate in the eye, "No." Is her proud reply.

"Where's his child?" Barbossa grabs the bloody medallion from the chest and shakes it in her face, "The child that sailed from England eight years ago, the child in whose veins flows the blood of William Turner. Where!?" He shouts, not even waiting for an answer before backhanding her, sending her, and the medallion, down the hill of treasure and to the edge of the water.

A tall black man covered in markings, who towers over everyone else turns to the two other pirates, the bigger one that got shot, and the skinny one that reminds me of an underfed rat. "You two! You brought us the wrong person!" He accuses them.

The bigger pirate who had survived the gunshot protests, "No! She had the medallion! She's the proper age!"

Rat-face speaks up, "She said her name was Turner! You heard her! I think she lied to us."

Again, talking about Will! Somehow, I know I didn't get the whole story I deserved.

I turn to where Elizabeth lies and spot Will, slowly swimming to her in the water. Her motions for her to follow him into the water. She grabs the fallen medallion and lets him lower her and the heavy extravagant dress into the water.

One of the pirates turns to Barbossa, "You! You brought us here for nothing!"

Barbossa only sneers, "I won't take questioning and no second guesses, not from the likes of you, Master Twigg."

Matted-Hair stands up for Twigg. "Who's to blame? Every decision you've made has led us from bad to worse."

Another pirate calls out, "It was you who sent Bootstrap to the depths!"

Markings speaks up, "And it's you who brought us here in the first place.

Barbossa shouts over the crowd of what he had believed to be his loyal men, "If any coward here dare challenge me, let him speak! Hmm?"

Matted-Hair takes on a different approach , "I say, we cut her throat and spill all her blood, just in case."

I rub my throat, disgusted by the turn of events and thankful that Will had gotten to her in time.

Barbossa looks on over to where Elizabeth had fallen and realizes that both her and the medallion is gone. "The medallion! She's taken it! Get after her you feckless pack of ingrates!"

I cower behind a rock and listen as the cave erupts into anger and arguing. The pirates race to their boats only to find their oars missing.

"No oars here! Where's the oars?" A pirate calls out.

"The oars have gone missing. Find them!" Markings orders.

Suddenly, from the corner of the cave, Jack appears.

Rat-face is the first to spot him, "You."

Soon all the pirates are crowded around, shocked.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Gunshot says.

Jack looks down at himself, "Am I not?"

Gunshot and a few other pirates take out their pistols and point them at Jack menacingly.

Jack looks up, "Oh. Palulay? Palu-li-la-la-luu, parlili?"He starts mumbling like an idiot, further confusing his audience, "Parsnip, pasley, par-partner. Partner?"

Rat-face speaks up, "Parley?"

"Parley!" Jack says, seemingly relieved at having found the right word, "That's the one. Parley! Parley!"

_Parley: a discussion or conference, especially one between enemies over terms of a truce or other matters. _I find myself thinking randomly, having recalled this term from my government lesson.

Gunshot spits on the ground, in disrespect, "Parley? Down to the depths whatever man that thought up parley!" He says in disgust.

Jack replies, "That would be the French."

Barbossa pushes his way through his men, "How the blazes did you get off that island?"

"When you marooned me on that godforsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing, mate." Jack waits for a guess but when none comes, he finishes, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah, well, I won't be making that mistake again. Gents, you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow? Kill him."

"No!" Someone shouts out as all the pirates take out their weapons and point them at Jack.

I look around to see whose voice that was. But when all the pirates turn towards me, I realize my mistake. It was _my_ voice.

"There is a girl up there!" Gunshot calls out and a group of four or five pirates disappear around a corner, no doubt on their way to capture me.

I don't move but just stare at Jack, who looks both sad and angry at the same time. I keep my eyes on Jack as I feel harsh arms grab me from behind. I close my eyes as I am jostled around and then thrown to the ground at Barbossa's feet.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Barbossa gently pulls me to my feet, "Why, it is a wee little wench."

"Get your hands off of me." I hiss trying to pull myself away.

Barbossa holds on tight however and I only manage to annoy him. "You are a little fighter aren't you?" He whispers back.

Turning to Jack, he throws me to Markings and he proceeds to tie my hands behind my back.

"Where did she come from, Jack?" Barbossa asks.

"Um... she is my cousin's friend's husband's sister. Twice removed. Thought this was a pleasant trip and decided to sneak on board. No one important, really. "

"Come on, Jack." Barbossa laughs without joy. "You know you could never lie very well."

He takes out the same knife that cut Elizabeth's hand and presses it to my throat. "Now tell me the truth and I won't slit her throat just now."

"The girl's blood didn't work, did it?" Jack says, randomly, in an attempt to change the subject.

"You know whose blood we need?" Barbossa asks, lowering the dagger.

Jack nods, "I know whose blood ye need."

"To the ship!" Barbossa calls out to his men and with a cheer, they head towards their rafts.

"The oars! I found the oars!" Twigg calls out from behind a large rock near the entrance of the cave.

The oars are distributed and the men load up into the boats and one by one, they start rowing for the Black Pearl.

Markings still has a tight hold on me but as he is about to shove me into the boat, Barbossa calls out mockingly, "Bo'sun, be gentle. And put her in my room."

Jack is shoved in beside me and and grip onto him.

"Where is Will? And Elizabeth?" He asks.

I shake my head, "They must have left for the _Interceptor_. See? Our boat is gone."

"He left you, you know?"

"He must have forgotten." I reply, trying to defend Will's honour.

"He didn't forget. He just realized where his priorities lie." Jack's solemn response is.

"Hey you! No talking!" Bo'sun says roughly.

Jack and I pull our heads away as the dark waves and the strong oars pull us ever closer to the Black Pearl.


	21. Chapter 21

The force of the shove sends me sprawling to the floor and laughter filled the air. I hold my wrist, having forcibly twisted it during the fall.

"Enjoy your time with the captain, little girl." Bo'sun smiles before slamming the door shut. I lose hope of escape when I hear the large wooden door being bolted from the outside.

I slide myself over to another door and pull it open, revealing an ordinary closet filled with books and old navigation equipment.

Shutting the door with disappointment, I slide over to another door, pulling it open to reveal a small bed chamber. I slam that door quickly in disgust. I don't even want to think about what Bo'sun implied when he said "your time with the captain".

I cringe and slide into the middle of the room, where a wooden table stands. Gingerly holding my wrist, I shakily get to my feet and sit in the chair.

I suddenly hear muffled sounds coming from my left and I spin in that direction. I walk over to the wall from where it seems to come from and press my ear to it. Although the sounds are louder, no words can be distinguished.

The sounds stop briskly and I press my ear harder to the wood, wondering if maybe the people moved away.

All of a sudden, the wall falls away from me and I stumble into the adjoining room. Barbossa stands beside what is now revealed to be a false wall and I see Jack, sitting standing casually on the other side of a dining table, waving cheekily to me.

"Well, it is nice of you to join us!" Barbossa says with a laugh. "Here take a seat." He motions to a nearby chair and I take a cautious seat. Jack tosses me an apple from a bowl on the table and takes one for himself.

Barbossa seems a little put off by the action but doesn't say anything on it.

I take the apple and quickly bite into it, my hunger finally revealing itself to be an unsatisfied monster. I feel as if I haven't eaten in days.

Their conversation continues as if I had never interrupted.

"So," Barbossa starts, "You expect to leave me standing on some beach with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need and watch you sail away in my ship?" He finishes with an unbelieving tinge to his voice.

"No." Jack replies and Barbossa relaxes a bit, until Jack continues, "I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on _my_ ship and _then_ I'll shout the nam back to you. Savvy?"

"But that still leaves us with the problem of me standing on some beach with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need."

"A name?" I pipe up from my corner.

"Yes, sweetie." Barbossa mocks, "A name."

"The name of the person whose blood you need to undo the curse. Bootstrap Bill Turner's child." I try to confirm, having overheard some of the background story on the boat ride to the Black Pearl.

"You are an observant one aren't you?" Barbossa says again, but this time with less mocking and a little more cautiousness.

"Wait...Jack? Is he talking about-"

"No, no, sweetheart. You have no idea who we are talking about." Jack says, putting a discreet finger to his lips.

"Jack, Jack, Jack." Barbossa says, "When will you ever learn some manners? Ladies first. Who do you think we are talking about sweetie?"

Understanding that giving Barbossa any true information would be disastrous, I quickly formulate an answer. "Um... Jack, are we Mr. Everett Turner? The man who just turned 80 last month?" I say cringing.

Barbossa breaks out into laughter and even Jack can't suppress a smile.

"80?!" Barbossa laughs, "You are not as clever as I thought you were, miss! Now, no more interruptions. We have business to attend to. One more peep out of you and I might just give you to the crew for entertainment."

I shrink away and use the apple to occupy my mouth.

"Where were we?" Jack asks turning back towards Barbossa.

"Me, standing on a beach with naught but a name and your word that it's the one I need."

"Oh, yes."

"I don't trust you, Jack. How do I trust your word that its the one I need.

"Of the two of us, I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny. Therefore, my word is the one we'll be trusting. Although I suppose I should be thanking you because in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share in that curse, same as you." Jack says, taking a slow, intentional bite into the lush green apple in his hands, before offering another to Barbossa, "Funny ol' world, isn't it?"

Barbossa just stares at the offered apple with such want, such need, but doesn't make a move to take it, or even put it back on the table.

The door suddenly opens and Bo'sun enters, "Captain, we're coming up on the _Interceptor_."

Barbossa briskly gets to his feet and leaving Jack and I behind, he quickly goes topside.

One glance at one another, and Jack and I are madly fighting our way through the hull and up to the deck pushing and shoving one another to see who will get there first.

Jack makes it through to the deck first and we both race up to the top deck where Barbossa stands, telescope in hand.

Jack swaggers his way over to the captain and stands right infront of the telescope, blocking any view that Barbossa had of the _Interceptor_. " I'm having a thought here, Barbossa." He says, his mouth squirting juice from his apple in all directions "What say we run up a flag of truce? I scurry over to the _Interceptor_, and I negotiate the return of your medallion, eh? What say you to that?"

Barbossa sighs, as if expecting Jack to say that, "Now you see, Jack, that's exactly the attitude that lost you the _Pearl. _People are easy to search when they're dead." He grabs Jack's apple before turning to Bo'sun. "Lock him in the brig."

Bo'sun grabs Jack and starts dragging him away as Barbossa throws the apple overboard.

I don't move or say anything, wondering if I will be ignored and left alone. I slink off as far as I dare go without looking as if trying to escape.

Barbossa looks back through the telescope and he looks surprised. Slowly lowering the contraption, he turns and takes and nice long look at me before looking back at the interceptor through the lens.

"Girl!" He calls me over and I obediently go to his side, shaking in my boots. "You're her sister aren't you?" He asks, his voce low and menacing.

Not waiting for an answer he calls Bo'sun back over. "Throw her in with Jack." He commands with a rotten-toothed smile, "I think we just got our leverage if things should turn for the worse.

Bo'sun returns the smile and grabs me by the arm. He roughly drags me down to the hull to the cells. Most of them are dilapidated and reek of mold. he opens the creaking door to one of them and pushes me in. The water in the cell is around a foot deep and Jack is standing quietly in the corner, waiting for the pirate to return topside.

"Jack." I say, my voice shaking. "They know that Elizabeth is my sister."

"Do they now?" He replies, unimpressed.

"Jack, this is serious! I heard them talking about leverage incase something should happen. What will they do with this information? What could I possibly be used for? Will they try to exchange me for Will?"

"Sweetheart, they know nothing of Will. It is the medallion that they are after right now."

"Ok, but that still doesn't really change anything. Will they use me to get what they want?"

"Oh, Anna, Anna, Anna.. It isn't a matter of "if". It is a matter of "when". No matter where you live or who you are, sooner or later, a pirate will get the better of you."

"You are a pirate." I state, my voice soft and sad, "Will you try to get the better of me?"

This entire day has gone from bad to worse. The only good that has happened is that Elizabeth is now with Will, on the _Interceptor_, which is, unfortunately, about to be over taken by the Black Pearl and her crew of dirty, immoral, and black hearted men. I am tired and don't know who I can trust anymore. Thomas left and Will abandoned me. Sure, I had told Jack that I believed that Will had not done it on purpose, but after some thought, is it really normal to forget a young girl who is completely surrounded by pirates? It would take some really horrible memory to do that.

"No, not yet. I have other fish to gut first."

"What are you talking about?" I ask suspiciously. "What fish?"

Jack walks over to me, tripping over his own feet and almost landing face first in the water, "Girly, don't mind your little head about such things. Just know, that for now, I won't betray you."

"Isn't that reassuring?" I mutter.

In the silence that follows, I can here the crew on deck and the instructions called out.

"Haul on the main brace! Make ready the guns! And run out the sweeps." I hear Barbossa shout.

Scraping sounds follow his command and my head spins around, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from.

"The gun ports." Jack explains, seeing my frightened and confused expression.

"Oh." I breathe, the realization that a full out battle is about to descend upon us.

"They're clubhaulin'!" Barbossa shouts a warning, "Hard to port! Rack the starboard oars."

I turn to Jack, "Clubhauling?"

Jack doesn't look up but peers out into the see through a small hole in the wall found in the wall. "They're turning to line up with us." He says, a touch of excitement in his voice, before turning all his attention back to the hole, something getting his attention.

I shove Jack a little to the side and squeeze my face close to his, looking out through the same hole. Through the hole I can see the open gun ports of the _Interceptor_ and their loaded guns.

"Fire!" We hear from both above and from the _Interceptor_. Jack and I both dodge to the side as a single canon blows a hole right where are heads at bean not seconds before.

A slice of wood manages to catch my face and I yelp. A searing pain hits me and I clutch my face in agony, groaning, fighting back the tears.

"Stop blowing holes in my ship!" Jack says from where he had thrown himself.

I slowly pull my hand away only to see it covered in blood. I quickly press it back to the long cut running down the side of my face, from my forehead, down my cheek and chin and ending in the middle of my neck.

Jack turns around mttering in disgust and sees me sobbing. He kneels down beside me and forces my hand away from the cut. Sucking a breath in, he rips the red bandana off my arm and soaking it in the ocean water starts cleaning the cut. The salt from the water burns but grab Jack's arm, holding it tightly to ward off some of the pain.

After a few minutes, he re-soaks the cloth and then holds it against my injury before making me hold it myself for a few minutes.

We sit in the cell as the fighting rages above and around us. I moan as I keep putting pressure on my cut, the salt burning.

Jack delightedly finds a canteen, although turns sour when it is revealed to be empty. As he is about to throw it out of the cell, he notices something.

Pulling me up to my feet, Jack turns me around and points to the cell door, whose lock has been blown off by the canon shot.

_Finally! A piece of luck!_

Stuffing the canteen into his belt, Jack grabs my arm and starts pulling me out of the cell and through the single hallway to the stairs.

Barbossa's voice is much clearer as we hear him shout, "Raise yer colors ya bloomin' cockroaches! Hands, grapnels, at the ready. Prepare to board! Blast all to carcasses, en! Forward clear to the power magazine. And the rest of you, bring me the medallion!"

Even I know what that means. They are going to board the _Interceptor_. Which in proper english means that they are going to win. Once boarded, the Interceptor will have no way to escape unless her crew manages to kill every last one of the pirates.

Without a second of thought, Jack and I rush up the stairs and burst on to the deck. Thankfully, everyone is too occupied to notice us and Jack pulls me towards the side of the ship.

All around us, pirates are throwing grapples and swinging over to the _Interceptor_, shouting and yelling in intimidation.

I look over to the English ship and spot Elizabeth deftly shooting at any pirate that dares try to board. Shocked, and impressed, I notice that she is hitting her targets at least a few times.

A _Black Pearl _pirate makes an attempt to swing over but is unable to land, swinging right back towards Jack and me. I move quickly to the side to avoid being hit but jack grabs the rope as the pirate swings by, sending the man sprawling across the deck.

"Thanks very much." He says tipping his hat, then turning to me. "You ready?" He asks.

I nod and with one final press against my wound, I wrap my arms around Jacks neck and he deftly swings us over to the _Interceptor_. I let go and land on my face in the middle of the fighting. I keep to my knees and look around for Jack.

Hearing his yelling, I look up to find that he hadn't let go of the rope and was now swinging back and forth from ship to ship, dodging dozens of bullets before finally letting go while above the _Interceptor _landing perfectly on top of me, knocking out my breathe.

"Sorry, love." Jack groans getting to his feet and pulling me up with him.

Gibbs shows up above us. "Jack! Miss Swann!"

Jack shoves the empty canteen at the older man, "Bloody empty." He says with a sneer of disgust before rushing off.

I stay by Gibbs side and he quickly hands me a musket. "Find some high ground, and pick off as many as you can." He orders breathlessly, before stabbing a man that had been poised to cut me from behind.

I nod and rush off to the top deck, which is surprisingly empty other than a single corpse. I knock the musket before taking aim. With a deep breathe to calm my nerves, I squeeze the trigger, knocking off a pirate's hat. I gasp and catch myself about to shout, "Sorry!"

I knock the musket again and take aim. Just as I am about to fire, I am grabbed from behind and the musket is yanked from my hands.

A deafening cheer rises up from the pirates of the _Black Pearl_ and my heart sinks. Although I had known that we would lose the battle, the reality that we were all now at the mercy of Captain Barbossa and his crew, was heart breaking. Spirit breaking.


	22. Chapter 22

"Look who we found." The pirate holding me says to Barbossa.

"Ah, little Miss Swann." Barbossa says with a chuckle, "I was wondering when you were going to honor us with your presence." To the pirate he says, "Tie her with the others."

I look up to the "others" and find Elizabeth staring at me, her eyes wide with shock. "Anna." I hear her gasp.

Thankfully, the pirate ties me right beside Elizabeth.

"Oh, Elizabeth!" I hug her before my arms are yanked down to my side. "I have missed you so much! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you injured?"

"I am fine." She replies, flabbergasted, "What are you doing here?"

"It is a really long story." I say, "I will tell you everything later." I smile, "It is so good to see you. You have no idea how worried Will and I was. Where is he?"

"He is back on the _Interceptor_." She replies, angry and frustrated. "He had gone down into the hull when the mast fell, trapping him inside. I have to do something!"

Before I can stop her, she quickly slips through her bindings. Just as she does, the Interceptor blows up, shocking everyone around.

Fury blinding her, Elizabeth marches straight up to Barbossa, "You've got to stop it!" She screams," Attacking him, making me flinch at every hit. "Stop it!"

Barbossa grabs her arms, "Welcome back, Miss. You took advantage of our hospitality last time. I holds fair that you return the favor." He says, pushing her into a crowd of his crew who start stroking her and petting her hair as she tries to fights her way out.

"How dare you?" I shout at Barbossa, fighting my restraints. "Let her go!"

"Oh, right." He says, "You girls are sisters. Feisty to the bone but your appealing looks make up for it." He likes his lips, disgusting me.

"Barbossa!" A voice calls and all attention is turned to the edge of the ship, where Will now stands.

Everyone ceases to move and I can hear Elizabeth whisper his name in shock and amazement.

"She goes free." He says, referring to Elizabeth and pointing his pistol at the pirate captain.

"What's in your head, boy?" Barbossa asks.

"She goes free!" Will repeats, jumping down from the edge and pointing the pistol right at Barbossa's head.

"You've only got one shot, and we can't die."

I hear Jack, who is being detained by Matted mutter, "Don't do anything stupid."

Realizing what Barbossa said was true, Will jumps back onto the edge and points the pistol at himself. "You can't. I can." He says.

"Like that." Jack says.

Barbossa looks as WIll suspiciously, "Who are you?"

"No one." Jack breaks out of Matted's grip and takes a stand between Will and Barbossa, "He's no one. A distant cousin of my aunt's nephew, twice removed. Lovely singing. Eunuch."

"My name is Will Turner." Will calls out, "My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs in my veins."

From the back, Rat-face speaks up, "He's the spitting image of ol' Bootstrap Bill, come back to haunt us."

"On my word, do as I say." Will continues, "Or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones' Locker."

"Name your turns, Mr. Turner." Barbossa says cautiously.

"Elizabeth goes free."

"Yes, we know that one." Barbossa says sounding a little annoyed, "Anything else."

"And the crew. The crew are not to be harmed."

"Agreed." Barbossa says with a smile.

I can't help but let my jaw hit the ground. How dare he forget me again! I try to get his attention so I can let him know just what I think of him but he only has eyes for Elizabeth, literally. I am completely ignored even though he practically sentenced me to either be a servant to these pirates, or to be killed, or worse, raped.

I fight my bonds and try shouting his name but by the end of the first syllable, I am gagged.

"Go, on Poppet, go! Walk the plank!" Gunshot laughs gleefully.

Elizabeth looks down at the water below her, lift her skirts as high as she dares go to avoid tripping. Those filthy, promise-breaking, dirt filled, brainless, heartless, mindless, soulless, selfish, pirates! How dare they! Making a young woman walk the plank! At least, I don't feel so bad at being left out of Will's negotiations. There must be a multitude of sharks in these warm tropical waters. But Elizabeth! She isn't the strongest swimmer. She might drown, or get eaten, and probably die of starvation on the island!

"You lying bastard!" Will shouts to Barbossa, fighting against his binding and the pirates holding him. "You swore she'd go free!"

Barbossa turns to him, "Don't dare impugn me honor, boy." He scolds, "I greed she'd go free, but it was you who failed to specify when or where." The crew laughs and Will is swiftly gagged. "Though it does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don't it lads?" He says, motioning to Elizabeth.

His crew agree with resounds of "Aye."

"So I'll be having that dress back before you go." He says to Elizabeth, holding out his hand.

With a sneer, Elizabeth quickly strips down to her under-gown, a long, thin gown that would have my father swaying in embarrassment. "It goes with you black heart." Elizabeth says, throwing him the dress.

Barbossa presses it to his face with a smile, "Ooh, it's still warm." He says, tossing it to a crowd of pirates who start fighting over the dress.

"Off you go!" A pirate yells at Elizabeth, "Come on!"

"Too long!" Bo'sun yells before shaking the plank.

Lizzie looses her balance and, with a scream, falls over, out of sight.

The pirates laugh at the splash that ensues.

Jack is next and is dragged up to the plank, "I'd really rather hoped we were past all this." He says as he passes by Barbossa.

"Jack, Jack." Barbossa says, wrapping his arm around the other man's shoulders, "Did ye not notice? that be the same little island that we made you Governor of on our last little trip." He points to the distance and Jack follows his finger.

"I did notice."

"Perhaps you'll be able to conjure up another miraculous escape, but I doubt it." Barbossa unsheathes his sword and brandishes it at Jack's throat.

I yelp at the action in surprise and the pirate captain turns to me with a grin, "Don't you worry, little missy. I haven't forgotten about you."

I gulp.

"Off you go." Barbossa says, turning back to Jack.

"Last time, you left me a pistol with one shot." Jack says, slowly backing onto the plank.

"By the powers, you're right. Were be Jack's pistol? Bring it forward." A pirate hands Barbossa Jack's effects.

"Seeing as there's two of us, a gentleman would give us a pair of pistols." Jack explains.

"If we were to go by that logic, I would have to spare another pistol and I can't afford to do that." Barbossa says and a confused look comes to everyone around. "It'll be one pistol as before, and you can be the gentleman and shoot the lady and starve to death yourself."

Without further ado, Barbossa throws the knot of effects into the sea and Jack dives expertly in after it.

"Now for the little lady!" Barbossa says turning to me with a laugh.

Realization hits Will's face and he looks at me apologetically, "I am sorry Anna! I truly am!" He says, but I turn my back to him.

I am swiftly untied and brought before Barbossa.

"You know what, I am feeling quite generous right now. I will give you a choice. You can either stay with us here on this boat accompanied by Will and all your other friends in exchange for returning to us the favor your sister owes us... hospitality."

The crew laughs and the captain chuckles, "Or, you can join your sister and Jack Sparrow to make a life of a few days on that god-forsaken little spit of land also known as Jack's Island. It is your choice, but don't think we'll give you time to mull it over. Come on, what is your answer?"

I stare up at the man that had caused me and my friends and family so much grief. From the kidnapping Lizzie and almost killing my father with worry, Greaves getting the idea of going after Elizabeth which ultimately led to his death, to Thomas and I arguing and separating, to threatening Elizabeth's life which led to Will forgetting about me and thus putting me in this exact situation... it was all this man's fault.

This man with no heart had torn my life apart so much that I could never go home and have things the way they were. No more visits at the cave, no more small adventures and pleasures with Elizabeth since my father will most likely have her under lock and key. No more reading about pirates with pleasure since he has completely distorted my view of them. He even has me detesting fish, which had been one of my favorite meals!

And with that, I take a a deep breathe I spit on his face.

"You little miscreant!" He shouts, wiping at his face. "You have just sealed your fate to the sharks!" He grabs me roughly by the arm and throws me onto the plank, calling for a rag.

I only manage to keep my balance and slowly walk to the edge of the plank.

I turn back to the boat, all eyes on me. "You want to know a little something, Barbossa?"

He turns to me, the rag on his face.

I continue, "Even though I will probably die because of it, it was worth it to spit in your face even though you deserve much, much worse."

"Well, little Swann. I may deserve much worse, but we all make our paths in this life and some deserve much evil and get much good, while others deserve much good and get much evil. So don't you go thinking that I will get much evil."

"Oh, I doubt you'll get much evil, Barbossa." I say "You and your crew have all of it and there isn't any left to give to you."

"Why, little Swann, would you even think for a moment that I cared what you thought? You are a little female swine."

"I may be a swine but you are a half-wit."

"You know what, you are really getting on my nerves that I might actually keep you here...and to myself."

"Jack is the rightful captain of the _Black Pearl_." I continue without fear. If he tries to get me, I will just jump right off. I doubt he would follow me into the depths, "And only half-wits would disagree."

"_I_ am the captain of this ship!" Barbossa shouts.

"Exactly."

"That is enough!" Barbossa shouts, ramming his foot down on the board.

I lose my balance and fall over, hitting my head forcefully on the plank before falling. I try to fight the darkness away, but it is too strong. Time seems to slow down and it feels like minutes before I hit the water and the blackness engulfs me.


	23. Chapter 23

I wake up to the sun glaring in my eyes, and my throat filled with water. I flip onto my stomach, coughing, trying to breathe.

I am laying on warm sand and a single crab stares at me not two feet away and Elizabeth leans against a palm tree, drenched to the bone.

"It's about time you woke up." Jack says, standing over me.

"What happened?" I ask, groggily, pulling myself up into a sitting position. Elizabeth is sitting on the sand a little farther up from the water.

"You hit your noggin." Jack replies, "What is it with me having to save both you girls from drowning?"

I smile, "Thank you Jack."

"Don't thank me, I have only condemned you to starvation on this little island."

I look out over the sea, the _Black Pearl_ only a dot in the distance.

"That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship." Jack says solemnly and I offer him a consoling smile.

"Well that's that." He says, turning around and heading into the forest.

Elizabeth and I exchange a glance before taking off after him.

"Why aren't you planning to get off the island?" I ask Jack once we've caught up.

"If you have a plan, enlighten me." Jack says, not even turning around.

"But you were marooned on this island before, weren't you? So we can escape in the same way you did then." Elizabeth says.

Jack turns abruptly to face us, "To what point and purpose, young missy? The _Black Pearl _is gone and unless you have a rudder and a lot of sails hidden in that bodice, unlikely, young Mr. Turner will be dead long before you can reach him."

I smirk at Jacks comment, "Who care about Will?" I say earning a glare from Elizabeth. But before she can start an argument I continue, "Right now, we have to take care of ourselves which includes not starving on this island which means we have to get off."

Jack takes a long look at me before swiveling around and continuing on his trek stopping at a random tree and knocking.

"You're Captain Jack Sparrow." Elizabeth states, "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company. You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot. Are you the pirate I've read about or not? How did you escape last time?"

"Wait, how do you know all this?" I ask her.

She gives me an embarrassed smile, "You aren't the only person I rely on to get me pirate books."

My mouth drops open. She had knowledge about pirates that I didn't? No fair!

Jack looks straight at Elizabeth, ignoring our little side conversation, "Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, all right?" He knocks on another tree before jumping up and down like a madman. "Last time," He continues, opening what seems to be a door in the ground, revealing a secret cellar, "the rumrunners used this as a cache. Came by, ad I was able to barter a passage off." He climbs down into the cellar and picks out ha handful of rum bottles, "From the looks of things, they've long been out of business. Probably have you bloody friend Norrington to thank for that." He climbs out of the cellar and closes the door after him.

"So that's it then?" Elizabeth says, "That's the secret grand adventure of the infamous Jack Sparrow? You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum?"

"Welcome to the Caribbean, love." He smiles, handing her one of the bottles and tossing me another before swaggeering down to the beach, picking up pieces of wood along the way.

I catch it and look at the dirty, dust incrusted bottle. It is looking much more inviting than it should to a governor's daughter. However, my mission was accomplished... somewhat. I had saved Elizabeth from the pirates and now had her where I could always see her. Sure, we were faced with one of the most painful deaths imaginable but at least no one was about to be sacrificed. Well, except for Will but at the moment, I couldn't care less what happens to him.

With a grin, I hold up the bottle of rum to my sister as a toast before following Jack down to the sand, leaving Elizabeth with her jaw to the ground.

The fire was as tall as a house and the stars littered night sky like there were a million to spare. The inky black ocean churned and tossed softly, small waves crashing onto the shore at regular intervals. The sound of the waves, the crackling of the fire and the whisper of wind through the trees harmonized with our singing.

It was beautiful. It felt beautiful. For the first time in a long time, I was content. Okay, maybe that was mainly due to the half-bottle of rum I had already consumed.

"We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs. Drink up me 'earties yo ho!" Jack, Lizzie and I dance around the blazing bonfire, like the indians on the plains.

For a while at he beginning, Jack and I were the only ones having any fun but as the sun set, Lizzie came up to us and took a big swing of the rum bottle.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" We finish.

"I love this song!" Jack shouts into the wind, falling onto the sand, "Really bad eggs!"

"I love eggs!" I shout along with him. "Especially with toast and jam and butter and tea and that especially special sauce that cook makes!" I collapse beside him taking a large sip of rum, "And we're really bad eggs!" I sing before erupting in laughter.

"When I get the _Pearl_ back, I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew, and we'll sing it all the time!"

"While eating eggs!" I add giggling "And toast and jam and butter and tea and that especially special sauce that cook makes!"

"And you'll be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main." Elizabeth says, joining us on the sand.

"Not just the Spanish Main, love." Jack corrects wistfully, "The entire ocean. The entire wo'ld. Wherever we want to go, we'll go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. That's what a ship needs. But what a ship is, what the _Black Pearl _is, is freedom."

I stare at Jack, entranced by his words, imagining all the freedom of the world, in only a single ship.

"I want that ship." I mutter into the darkness to myself.

"Jack," Elizabeth says, leaning into him, "It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island."

Jack looks down at Elizabeth's head, taken aback. "Oh, yes." He gingerly puts his arm around her shoulders. "But the company is infinitely better than last time, I think. The scenery has definitely improved."

Elizabeth bristles slightly at the gesture and, holding back a chuckle, I give Jack a thumbs up. Between him and Will, he would definitely be the better brother-in-law, at least in my opinion.

Elizabeth abruptly sits up, "Mr. Sparrow, I'm not entirely sure that I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

"I know exactly what you mean, love." Jack replies sultrily, curling his moustache.

Looking a tad flustered, Elizabeth holds out her bottle, "To freedom."

I hold out my bottle, "To eggs!"

"To the _Black Pearl_." Jack finishes before we chug the rest of our rum down, falling back into the sand, letting the darkness wash over us and wrap us in its forgetting grip.

I wake up to a splitting headache and smoke stinging my eyes. I rub my scorching eyes and sit up, looking around to the source of the smoke.

A little into the forest, is Elizabeth, wide awake, throwing the crates of rum onto a large, imposing fire which is also slowly consuming the trees.

I jump to my feet. "What are you doing?" I shout to Elizabeth, running towards. I cringe as she throws another crate, and the shattering of the bottles is heard.

"What are you doing?" I ask again, reaching her, "You're throwing away all the rum! Why are you throwing away all the rum? That was my best night ever!"

"No," Elizabeth counters, fury in her yes, "That was your most ridiculous, sinful, night ever. Luckily for you, I haven't decided yet if I will be telling Father or not."

"I doubt he will care after he hears of all the other things I've done."

Elizabeth's eyes widen, "I don't want to hear it." She states and picks up another crate. I grab it before she gets the chance to throw it.

"Let go." She orders pulling it towards her.

My grip holds fast, "No. Give it to me."

"No!" A runninng and shouting Jack shocks me and Elizabeth manages to wrench it out of my grip before putting it in the fire.

"Not good!" Jack cries, "Stop! Not good! What are you doing? You burned all the food, the shade! The rum!"

"Yes, the rum is gone." Elizabeth confirms.

"Why is the rum gone?"

"My question exactly!" I agree crossing my arms.

"One, because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men, and women, into complete scoundrels." She explains, giving me a withering look, "Two, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for Anna and I."

"No." I interrupt, "They are not. Father thinks I am staying with friends." I explain with an embarrassed grin.

Elizabeth rolls her eyes, "Why am I not surprised? As I was saying the entire Royal Navy is out looking for me. Do you really think that there is even the slightest chance that they won't see it?"

Jack looks confused and flabbergasted, "But why is the rum gone?"

"Elizabeth sits on the ground and stares out to he horizon, "Just wait, Captain Sparrow. You give it an hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye out and then you will see white sails on that horizon."

My fury is now beyond control. I lunge at her. "You just condemned us to a weeks of pain and agony!" I scream, trying to get on top of her.

"I save our lives!" She counters, grabbing onto my arms and twisting herself on top of me.

"You know nothing of navigation or the sea!" I shout, "You have no idea if this 'plan' of yours will even work!" I kick her legs out from under her and she lands on the sand, her breathe knocked out of her.

"I know more than you do!"

Suddenly, the pain in my head and the sickness to my stomach is too much and I flip onto my stomach, retching up all the food and rum from the past day.

"You held on to it longer than I expected." Jack says with a hint of pride, "I'll make a pirate out of you yet."

I give him a distorted smile.

With a final glare, Elizabeth sits up and turns into the same position she was in before the fight. "You will do no such thing." She orders, "You will more likely rot in prison until your execution."

Jack takes out his pistol and aims it at the back of her head. Too weak to stop him, I just groan.

Thankfully, he thinks better of it and puts it back in his belt, before stalking off down the beach.

I crawl to the nearest tree and lean back against it. A few minutes of silence pass.

"How did you get here?" Elizabeth asks, still staring out into the sea.

"I walked the plank." I say with a hint of sarcasm.

"You know what I mean." Lizzie replies.

With a deep breathe, I tell her my story. From the coming out ball, to deciding to try to find her with Greaves and Thomas, to finding Jack in Tortuga, to Greaves' death and Thomas' abandonment. To making it to Isla de Muerta to the fight between the _Black Pearl _and the _Interceptor._

Lizzie listens quietly. Not a single interruption until the story ends.

"So, Frederick Barrington was actually Thomas Calder?" She says once I finish the story telling.

"Yes."

"And you love him?"

I blush slightly at this question, "Yes."

"You have to find him."

"I know."

"Lizzie!" I shout suddenly even though she is only a few feet away, "Your plan worked!"

Just around the curve of the island, a little rowboat appears, the Royal Navy uniforms apparent. We have been saved!


	24. Chapter 24

"Annalee? What on earth are you doing here?" Father cries when I step up from the ladder onto the _Dauntless_.

"Hello, Father." I lower my eyes, trying to wrack my brain for a plausible explanation.

"Were you kidnapped too?" He asks, gathering both Elizabeth and I into his arms. The worry and love in his voice is overbearing and I wriggle involuntarily in his grip.

When he finally lets us go, he takes a good long look at my dirt streaked face, so filthy that even Elizabeth hasn't even noticed my cut yet.

"When did you last wash yourself?" He asks, completely forgetting that I haven't answered his previous question, thankfully.

"In a long, long, long time." I say with a tired laugh. A long, hot bath sounds like the nicest thing in the world at the moment.

"Then, both you girls head to the captain's quarters and wash yourself up." He orders, gently, giving us both a final squeeze.

"But we've got to save Will!" Elizabeth protests.

"No." Father immediately replies, "You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!"

"Then we condemn him to death." Elizabeth states, hoping to quilt Father into seeing her side.

"The boy's fate is regrettable, but, then, so was his decision to engage in piracy."

"To rescue me. To prevent anything from happening to me."

Lizzie turns to me for support but I nod in agreement with Father.

"How dare you!" She shouts.

"Elizabeth! Don't speak to your sister in that way!" Father instructs but Elizabeth isn't listening.

"You would really send Will to his death just because he forgot you?" She accuses me.

I nod, fervently. "He forgot me twice!" I argue back, "And if it weren't for Jack, I would be have died. Both times."

"But you are not dead, are you?" Elizabeth retorts.

"No thanks to Will!"

"If I may be so bold as to inject my professional opinion, "Jack interrupts, speaking to the Commodore who had led the search. I jump, shocked as I had forgotten that he had been picked up from the island as well. "The _Pearl_ was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it. The _Black Pearl_. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. how can you pass that up?"

It is obvious that Commodore Norrington is tempted, but he stands firm, "By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself." He says, startling me by the selfless and genuine side of him that I had almost never been privy to before. The last time I had seen him this real was when he had let me go after catching me outside in the middle of the night and had let me go without even telling Father.

The Commodore turns and starts up the stairs to the upper deck, but Lizzie isn't done yet.

"Commodore, I beg you, please do this." And in a moment of utter desperation, she adds, "As a wedding gift."

The Commodore spins around, shocked and trying to contain his pleasure.

Father looks equally startled and his face can't help but bean in happiness and pride, "Elizabeth. Are you accepting the Commodore's proposal?"

Elizabeth seems to be finally comprehending what she said but doesn't back away, "I am."

"A wedding!" Jack shouts, "I love weddings! Drinks all around!"

The Commodore gives him a scalding look.

Jack's smile disappears, "I know, 'Clap him in irons' right?" He says, extending his arms.

Ignoring his comment, Norrington slowly descends the stairs, "Mr. Sparrow, you will accompany these fine men," He says referring to two guards that were his escorts, "to the helm and provide us with a bearing to Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase, 'Silent as the grave.'"

I snort, trying to hold back my laughter at the second part of the orders, and everyone turns to me at the sound invoking another laugh-turned-snort.

"Sorry," I say, still trying to hold back my laughing, "My apologies."

The Commodore looks back at Jack with a role of his eyes, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably clear." Jack responds before being dragged off.

"I do _not _believe that your father allowed you to accompany us!" The Commodore says in utter frustration.

I smile at his behavior. I love getting people into such a state, "Well, he didn't exactly have a say since he collapsed after I told him of my exploits."

I smile wistfully at the memory. After Elizabeth had recounted her story to Father, I decided that it would be better to get everything out at the same time and told him everything that had happened to me. Elizabeth's story had already rendered him unable to stand and mine sent him into unconsciousness. Of course, at the time I had been worried. But when the ship's doctor said that he had sustained absolutely no injury, not even a bruise, from the fall, I figured that it would be better this way.

I probably wouldn't have made it this far but with my dazzling smile and compliments getting me past two guards, Murtogg and Mulroy, and onto a small boat, and then Jack's distractions until we got to far from the ship to turn back, I didn't have to actually say the truth until Norrington had me and Jack transferred to his boat and demanded an explanation.

Norrington sighs in frustration at my comment, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"You will kill your father one of these days, Annalee." He says.

"It's Anna. And if what I said didn't kill him, than nothing will."

"I haven't exactly heard the whole of your story." Norrington says.

"Is that an invitation for a story time for the next few hours or so?" I ask him with playful sarcasm, "I am sure the pirates in the cave would be more than happy to wait while I tell you of my adventures. You never know, they might want to join us. They do, after all, have a small part in it."

This time Norrington actually smiles and I feel as if I have accomplished something no one else ever has. He didn't even smile when Elizabeth accepted his proposal. This has definitely been a grand feat for me.

After a few moments of watching the rocks that form the cave in silence as the small waves rock the rowboat back and forth, and back and forth. I have really gained my sea-legs since my first time on a boat during this adventure when I was with Thomas and Greaves. I let my legs do the work, extending and crunching depending on what side the boat is tipping and I keep my head level to get a clear view of our surroundings.

Norrington finally speaks up, cutting the silence, "I don't care for the situation. Any attempt to storm the caves could turn to an ambush.

"Not if you're the one doing the ambushing." Jack says, "I go in, I convince Barbossa to send his men out with their little boats. You and your mates return to the Dauntless and blast the bejesus outta them with your little cannons, eh?" He puts an arm on the Commodore's shoulder, "What do you have to lose?"

"Nothing I'd lament being rid of." Norrington answers, slowly peeling the arm off of his shoulder.

"Now to be quite honest with you, there's still a slight risk for those aboard the Dauntless which includes the future Mrs. Commodore."

At this, Norrington spins around and calls to the nearest boat, "Oarsman, distribute your soldiers between the other boats and then return to the _Dauntless_. Tell Gillette to keep Elizabeth safe. Lock her up, tie her down, I don't care. Just make sure that she is out of range of danger."

"Very authoritative and frightening, Commodore. You have me shaking in my boots." I say.

"It's James." He says with a grin and I scowl lightheartedly at his mockery.

"Well, James. What is your plan of action?"

"I haven't a clue."

"To be perfectly honest, even though Jack is not, he might seem like an idiot, look like an idiot, act like an idiot, talk like an idiot, walk like an idiot, drink like an idiot, speak like an idiot, live like an idiot, m-"

"What is your point?" Norrington interrupts impatiently.

I think for a moment, almost forgetting where I was going. "Ah, yes. Even though Jack may be an idiot in everything else, he is not an idiot when it comes to planning. Never has it happened that his plans fail because they were not good plans or because of something he did. It has always been someone else's fault."

Jack looks offended and when I sneak a peek at him, he looks away contemptuously.

"Since you have no plan." I continue, "And I have no plan. And Jack has a plan. I think we should go for it. As he said, 'What do we have to lose?"

"My pride, my dignity. A week ago, I wouldn't have even contemplated making a deal with a pirate, much less letting him go into a den full of other pirates with the knowledge of our plan."

"He saved my life an innumerable amount of times. If you trust me, and I trust him, then lets do it."

"What if I don't trust you?" He asks, his eyes light hearted for the moment.

"Then you have lost a friend, and shall never be known as James ever again. You shall be your work and your work shall be you and you will forever be known simply as Commodore."

"I was not being serious about calling me James. It is a sign of disrespect to call someone by their first name."

"Hey, you call me by my first name. Does that mean that you are not being respectful towards me?"

"It is different for a man of my status."

"You are very adept at changing the subject, aren't you? What about the plan of attack?"

The Commodore, James, doesn't respond right away but seems to be in deep thought.

"Give Jack Sparrow your boat," he finally orders once the sailor returns from his mission to the Dauntless. "He will be rowing ashore."


	25. Chapter 25

I am completely and utterly fed up.

"Commodore, why are we not going back to the _Dauntless_ according to the plan? We have to ready the guns."

"We will not be going to the _Dauntless_."

"Why not?" I ask, "It was a part of the plan."

"Because it was Jack Sparrow who said it. I am not an idiot. I will not trust anything or anyone to him."

"You are just being stubborn. You don't just not trust him, you don't want to trust him. And why? Because he is a pirate." I say, angry at James' lack of flexibility.

"Yes, Annalee, he is a pirate. He has stolen, murdered, and far worse. I am in absolute shock that even you trust him."

"He saved my life! Of course I trust him!"

"This isn't up for discussion, Annalee."

"Then I will jump off the boat right now and swim to the _Dauntless_, or to the cave, whichever is closer."

Norrington snickers, "You can't swim."

"That will be your problem when you have to explain to my father how my death came about." I say getting to my feet.

"Sit down, Annalee! Or, so help me, I will tie you down and gag you."

I cross my arms and glare at him. _Would he actually do it? _I figure yes after him locking Elizabeth, his fiance, up.

I plop back down and the Commodore breathes a sigh of frustration yet relief.

"This is why you shouldn't have come." He says.

"No, this is why we should return to the Dauntless."

"You really do love to argue, don't you?"

"Everyone has a talent, and Father says that that is mine."

"Unfortunately, good talents must have run out by the time you came around."

"You are funny, _James_. I find you incredibly amusing. Maybe you should quit your position and become an entertainer, traveling from party to party and get people to laugh at you. Oh, wait, they already do."

"Someone fetch me a gag." The commodore orders the soldiers sharing our boat.

"You wouldn't." I say through slitted eyes.

"Oh, yes, I would."

Before he can actually follow through with his threat, something catches his attention. Everyone looks to where he is staring intently and we see a small rowboat coming into view from behind a large rock jutting out of the cave. The strangest part of it all is that the passengers are two women, dressed for a picnic, parasols and all.

The soldiers all point their muskets at the strangers.

"Hold fire." Norrington orders.

The ladies row on past us, almost as if they didn't even notice the six boats filled with soldiers.

They soon disappear into the fog, heading straight for the _Dauntless_.

"What on earth?" I say.

"What was that?" A soldier calls from another boat.

"I thought I was just seeing things." Norrington says.

"Mass hallucination?" I offer skeptically.

He gives me a grim smile as the night's silence is interrupted by the ringing of a bell, which draws our attention to the _Dauntless_.

Gunshots and shouts, which we had not noticed before, emanate from the ship.

"Make for the ship!" The Commodore orders, "Move!"

Oars are taken up and all the rowboats start rowing for the ship at a break neck speed.

The sounds of battle become our guide as a fog sets in around us.

"To the ship!" One of the higher officers calls to his men, encouragingly.

"Row men!" Norrington echoes, urging them faster.

All of a sudden, a cannon balls lands only a couple meters away, thankfully landing in the water with a large splash.

After that first one, it is an unrelentless barrage of shots, fortunately all landing in the water.

Large doses of salty, ocean water lands in the boat, slowly but surely soaking the passengers.

By the time we get to the ship, I am soaked to the bone. My loose, thin blouse and black skirt did nothing to protect me from the cold water of the sea. The rest of the passengers, however, look barely disheveled, their thick military attire keep the water out.

"Boarders away!" Norrington calls out to his men, "Annalee, you stay here. You will be safer down here."

"Absolutely not." I say starting to climb the side of the ship along with the men, "I know how to fight."

"Annalee!" Norrington calls, climbing up after me.

I ignore him and swing over into the ship, only to be faced with a living nightmare. I stand paralyzed at the sight that meets me.

The pirates of the Black Pearl, have lost their humanity. Only bones and clothing, they stand, the living dead.

A pirate notices me and slowly makes his way towards me, his sword at the ready.

I don't move. I can't move. The shock at seeing the physicality of the curse has rendered me helpless.

Norrington climbs up after me and shoots the pirate, the sound jolting me back into reality just in time to dodge another pirates sword.

Norrington unsheathes his sword and pushes me behind him.

"This was very foolish of you, Annalee!" He shouts parrying a pirate's sabre.

"Just give me a sword and I'll be able to defend myself against these, these monsters."

"Cover me!" He shouts and all the soldiers nearby encircle us, keeping the pirates at bay.

"Take this." Norrington says, holding out his pistol. "Get somewhere safe and high and use this to help us in any way possible."

"No."

"Annalee..."

"I will not watch from afar as these pirates completely destroy this ship and its crew. I have done enough of watching from the side as other sacrifice themselves for my sake. I want to help."

"What you are doing is helpful." Norrington argues.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a pirate heading straight for me. I don't recognize him but I see pure hatred in his eyes as he gets ever closer to me, dispatching soldiers left and right.

"I'll take it." I say grabbing the pistol and running in the opposite direction before Norrington can say anything else. I quickly find myself at one of the shrouds of the main mast. Stuffing the pistol down into my skirt, I start climbing, ever so slowly to the top.

I look only down once to find the pirate stalking me having completely lost his view of me. I grin and keep on climbing until I reach the fighting top. I squeeze myself into the small balcony like enclosure and look down upon the fighting.

From this high up and through the fog, it is difficult to see which figures are on what side. I knock the pistol and look for a target, praying that I won't accidentally shoot a soldier.

I find a pirate on the top deck with no other soldiers around except for the one lying dead at his feet.

I point my pistol and with a deep breathe, pull the trigger. The bullet hits him straight in the chest, shocking both of us.

The surprise and the weight of the shot pushes the pirate back and he flips over the side of the ship, landing in the water with a large splash.

I just stare at the smoking pistol, startled that I had actually managed to hit a target. A smile blooms up onto my face and I look around for another target.

I find one in a pirate that is slowly climbing the foremast towards a soldier in the fighting top. I watch as the soldiers expression changes once he sees the pirate approaching him. He fumbles with his musket and tries shooting the pirate, missing every time.

Seeing that if I don't help, this man will die, I point my pistol at the pirate and shoot, hitting him in the leg. He trips up and looses his grip. He falls but re-grabs the shroud and continues climbing, glaring at me in the process.

I groan in frustration as the pirate gets ever closer to his target. A smile would have formed on his face if he had any lips.

I aim my pistol one more time and pull the trigger. A clicking sound comes from the pistol and in a moment of sheer panic, I realize that I have run out of bullets. In a moment of desperation, I grab the dagger, surprisingly still in my boot after all this time and throw it at the pirate, the blade imbedding itself into his chest. This time, he loses his grip on the rope for god, barreling down to the deck and landing with a big thump.

The soldier looks at me in shock and mouths thank you before firing a shot into the battle below us.

With a sigh, I realize that either I stay up in the fighting top and wait the battle out, or I go back down into the carnage. Choosing the latter, in what I admit is a moment of lost sanity, I slowly start making my way down the shroud.

Once my feet it the wooden deck, I am engulfed by the clashing of the swords and the firing of the rifles.

I stick close to the mast, hoping no one will notice me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a fallen soldier and, with a silent prayer, I walk up to him. Wrenching his sword out of his stiff fingers, I keep my eyes away from his face. No face, no identity.

I take the sword back to the safety of the mast. Looking down at it, I realize that I haven't a clue how to sword fight. I laugh grimly as the shouting around me continues.

Deciding that the armory is the best place to start, I carefully make my way through parries and thrusts and over bodies, doing my best to not look down.

I quickly make it down the stairs and a few minute search, I find the armory. Looking around at all the different weapons, I admit to myself that I have not a single idea what half of these are.

Remembering my success throwing the dagger, I walk over to wear the knives are. I pick out a leather belt, made specially for holding dagger, little sheathes all the way around the piece.

I wrap the belt around my hips and tie it tight before filling it with a dozen small daggers.I also grab another pistol, just in case, making sure to have some extra bullets as well.

Feeling well stocked and prepared, I walk back up into the fighting.

Choosing a good location to deliver the pain, I crouch right beside the staircase leading to the top deck. With two of my sides covered, I only have half my body to worry about and yet, I still have a good view of most of the deck.

I grab a dagger from my belt and scope out the possible candidates for a knife in the back.

Spotting the tall pirate that had been eyeing me earlier, I smile gleefully. Oh, revenge is definitely sweet.

I take out my pistol as well, just in case, and lie it down beside me.

I turn back to my prey only to find him gone. I get to my feet slowly, hoping that he hasn't already been taken care of. I look around at the crowd but the pirate is definitely gone.

I lean back against the side of the staircase, disappointed that my fury wasn't going to be released.

All of a sudden, hands grab my face from above and I am lifted off my feet and flung across the top deck, screaming. I hit the railing with a resounding crack. I open my eyes to find the world in double.

I groan and feel the back of my head, wincing in pain and finding it sticky with blood.

I stiffly get to my feet, relying on the railing to carry most of my weight as my legs are still literally shaking. I raise my head to find my prey, turned predator.

"I am going to enjoy this, little princess." He says menacingly.

"Why am I always 'little'?" I say, "Little swan, little princess... You pirates really need to get more original ideas."

"I am original in other ways, _little_ princess." The pirate says running his finger bones over his sword, "For example, in the ways that I kill."

I gulp but maintain my calmness. "Now, what is that in your hands? A butter knife?"

"The pirate shouts in anger and lunges towards me. I easily dodge his sword and he growls. He thrusts his sword in direction but I duck under it, before stabbing him in the foot with one of my daggers. He cries out in pain for but a moment before continuing his attack.

I will have to be more clever in order to defeat him. I sidestep another of his swings and spot a lever tied to a rope that loops up through a pulley attached to the gaff before coming back to the deck and pooling on the ground.

An idea springs to my mind and I slowly lead the pirate ever closer to the pirate. He lunges and I cross two of my daggers, blocking it. He swings again but I sidestep closer to the lever. I can feel his anger growing, his frustration building, at his inability to connect his blows.

As we get ever closer to our destination, I find myself getting more and more confident in my ability to block or dodge anything that his pirate can deliver. I time my ducks and dodges later than before and the pirate roars in frustration missing my head or torso by an inch or two every time.

One we stand by the lever, I accidentally lose concentration for a moment, his sword striking me across the chest. His sword slicing my shirt and skin straight from my left shoulder, across my chest and ending right below my arm connection.

I scream out in pain before crumpling to the floor, blood already forming a puddle. I clutch the cut and can immediately tell that it is deep. Too deep.

The pirate laughs and crouches down beside me.

Before I lose the chance, I tie the end of the lever's rope around his boot, slowly and carefully, while the pirate is distracted by the pleasure he is getting from my pain.

"Well, the little swan has finally had her wings clipped." The pirate mocks, "Any last words before I send you down into the depths of Davy Jones locker?"

"Just one," I say coughing up a bit of blood. I spit it down beside me.

"And what would that be?"

"Goodbye." I gasp out and with the rest of my strength, I slam the lever down.

The pirate goes flying into the air with a yell, never to be seen by my eyes again.

I can feel myself losing consciousness. It is slow at first. Time decelerates and it feels as if the world is under water, floating around at half the speed it usually is.

Then I lose the feeling in my legs, unable to move them and my brain doesn't even register that they are still there. My arms are next to go, slumped down at my sides, unmoving, _unable_ to be moved.

The paralysis moves slowly up my body. My mouth is next to go. I am unable to scream for help, no matter how much and how forcefully my brain tells my mouth to move, to form the sounds. Then my eyes. The moment that the connection between my eyes and my brain is severed, my eyes are closed.

My brain doesn't freeze just yet though, still able to think. But that is, in fact, the worst: wondering if I will ever see the sun again; ever see Elizabeth again. Wondering if I will ever be able to eat without the function of your lips, your tongue. Will I ever walk again? Hold someone dear in my arms?

Before the tears can come, the darkness does. I can feel my mind being wrapped up in it, one piece at a time until I am left with nothing. Not even darkness.


	26. Chapter 26

I wake up with a start, flying up into a sitting position, my breathing ragged and my face cloaked in sweat. The room spins out of control and I feel as if I have just been cleaved in half and quarters. I grab my head trying to make the spinning stop and after a few deep, controlling breathes, the room comes into focus.

_Where am I? How did I get here? How on earth am I still alive._

The room is unfamiliar. Small, but well organized, leaving quite a bit of room for standing and walking about.

The closed door suddenly swings open and an older man walks in, glasses resting on the tip of his nose and his upper lip sporting a generous moustache.

"Ah, the patient has awoken." He says with a warm smile, " You had us in quite a state of panic there for a while. Your father was literally tearing his hair off."

I smile weakly at the image, "Don't you mean he just removed his wig to give him head some air?"

The doctor returns my grin, "That is exactly what I mean."

"What happened?" I ask.

"You had a very large cut across your chest and lost quite a bit of blood. You have been unconscious for two days."

_Two days!_

"But... but what happened?" I cry, "Did we win the battle? Is Elizabeth okay? Is Jack safe? What about Will?"

I pause, "Forget about Will. How is everyone?"

The doctor laughs at my impatience, "Do you really think you or I would still be alive had the battle not been won? Everyone is safe, including Will. And, more importantly, so are you. You were on the brink of death with the amount of blood you lost. It is a true miracle that you are still alive."

I sigh with relief, laying my head back down on my sweat soaked pillow.

"You just rest for now. You need to have your strength when your family comes and bombards you with chatter once I tell them the news." The doctor advises.

"You have also been doing a really good job at hiding that nasty cut on your face." The kind doctor adds, "Covering your face with just enough dirt to mask the cut was brilliant in some ways and extremely stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it was brilliant because it did its job; no one ever saw it, otherwise your father would have demanded that I make sure that a scar never appears. And stupid because with all the dirt in it, an infection appeared and now, even if I had worked my 'magic', a scar will always run down the length of your face."

I had never thought of the possibility of there being a scar. I touch the scabbing cut, feeling the roughness and the dryness. Well, that's it. I guess I won't get married now. Nobody wants an ugly bride that has more battle scars than he.

I chuckle darkly at the thought. Why does the role of the beloved wife have to be one of a trophy and organizer of the home?

The doctor can easily see my thoughts in my eyes and pats my hand sympathetically. "Get some rest."

I nod and close my eyes, returning to the land of nothing.

_The darkness envelopes me, it holds me captive, a prisoner to its deep depths. It pulls me down, further and further into the deep abyss. It drags me down below, farther and farther from where I know the light to be._

_I fight. I battle like a warrior, pushing at it, clawing at it, kicking, slapping, hitting, anything to make it leave. But it's grip just tightens. Nothing I do has any effect. Nothing I do can pull be away from the evilness that controls the dark. Nothing can save me._

_Annalee... just open your eyes._

I do, hoping that I open them to an empty room. But no, everyone is still here. The doctor, Elizabeth, Father, all staring at me and my deformities.

"Is there anything you can do about this scar?" Father asks, his hands gripping mine tightly, referring to the large, snake like injury across my chest.

"Well, it is too early to be certain. However, the cut on her chest was very deep. There is a slim, or no, chance that there will be no scar.

"Don't worry, Father. At least it will match the one on my face." I remark darkly.

"Don't talk like that, Anna." Father scolds, "It isn't becoming of a woman to be so negative."

I roll my eyes at Elizabeth who beams at me.

"Well, I'm just happy that you're alive, scars and all." She says. "Don't worry, Anna. I will come back soon with some powder and we'll see about making your skin perfect again."

The door opens and Commodore Norrington cautiously walks in, "I was just wondering how Annalee was doing."

"Annalee is do-" The doctor starts.

"How dare you!" Father interrupts. "You are the reason that she is injured in the first place! You are the reason that she almost died! You let her go with you into the rowboat instead of keeping her safe with Elizabeth and you are the one that let her fight!"

"If I may," Norrington says firmly, "If I had locked her up with Elizabeth, she would have only left when Elizabeth went to the cave. She might have even been the first to come up with the idea! Secondly, your daughter is very difficult to control. I tried to keep her out of harms way but she doesn't exactly listen to authority figures very much."

"Excuses." Father hisses in disgust.

"Father, be quiet." I order, frustrated.

He turns to me, shocked, "Anna, you do not speak to your fa-"

"Then why are you speaking to the Commodore that way? Besides, what he is saying is true. He did try to stop me and I didn't listen... on multiple occasions."

"Annalee! Are you defending the man that almost killed you? That is preposterous!"

"He didn't almost kill me! Stop saying that! That pirate did."

"You know perfectly well that that was expected of the pirate. Commodore Norrington was, even without it being spoken, trusted with the duty of protecting you and making sure you were safe and in one piece. He suddenly changed his priorities and decided that having more people on his side during the battle would be more profitable than keeping my daughter safe. He failed his duty."

I rub my forehead, feeling the earlier spinning coming back.

"I am sorry, Annalee." Father says, his voice quietening. "I am just trying to do what is best for you."

Thankfully, the doctor cuts in before I can tell Father something I truly regret, "I believe that Annalee needs more rest." He says, "Would you all be so kind as to leave so that the patient can have her rest and fully recover?"

Norrington bows to Elizabeth and I, "I am happy to see that you and your quick tongue are on the mend, Annalee." He says before turning to leave.

Father with a huff takes off after him without so much of a goodbye.

Elizabeth watches them leave, a surprised expression on her face. "I do believe that you are a wonder maker, Anna. I have never seen Father so riled up and the Commodore so relaxed. Did you hear that little jab he made at the end? Did you? My word, I almost fell off my seat." She says with a chuckle. "There may be hope for him yet, especially if you still are allowed to talk with him and be friends."

"Do you think Father may make you pull back your acceptance of the proposal?"

She snorts, very unladylike, "I wish. But he wouldn't do that. Who else could I possibly marry that is more socially suited to me than Norrington?"

"What about me? Are you saying that my marriage won't be as socially proper as yours? How could Father do this to me? I thought he loved me! He should know that climbing the social matter is my life's calling!"

Elizabeth giggles, "To be frank, I think Father has given up on getting you a husband at least one that he approves one. He probably thinks that you are more likely to run away and become a pirate than marry anyone he has in mind."

"And for once in a long time, he is right." I scoff.

"Don't be so hard on him, Anna." Elizabeth tells me, getting to her feet, "He almost lost one of his children. A parent should never be close to outliving their child." She curtsies to the doctor, "Thank you so much for what you've done. My Father may not show it but he is truly thankful. If you had not saved Annalee, than he would have killed the Commodore and I would no longer be getting married and then were would our family? Annalee dead, me spouseless for the rest of my life, and my father in prison."

The doctor chuckles, "Annalee isn't the only one with a sharp tongue."

Elizabeth blushes slightly at the compliment and leaves the room, gently shutting the door behind her.

"Now that you have some peace and quiet" The doctor says, " I suggest that you try to get so-"

The door slams open and there stands Jack Sparrow.

"Jack!" I cry, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you on the _Pearl_?"

His face darkens, "Pirate Code, lass. Those who fall behind are left behind."

Someone pushes him into the room and Norrington reveals himself.

"Mr. Sparrow would not be quiet about visiting you so I had to let him come before he started a riot among the guards. Singing love songs to a group of tired out, battle-weary soldiers has never been, isn't, and will never be a good idea." He scowls at the pirate who just winks at me. "It was either bring him to see you or let my men kill him but that would be against the law on so many different levels."

The doctor quickly retreats into his medicine making lab that takes up a small corner of the room and draws the curtains around him.

"I'll be right outside with two guards if there is trouble." Norrington says before leaving once again.

"Jack. You being here, do you know what that means?" I ask him solemnly.

"Don't worry about me, love. I've been in worse situations."

"Jack. You're stuck on a ship. With dozens of soldiers. On your way to a hanging. I honestly doubt that you can get out of this one."

"And the worst part about it all is that I don't have my hat."

I slap him on the arm, "I am being serious, Jack!"

"So was I!" He slaps me right back, "I miss my hat."

"Fine, I'll get you one once were back in Port Royal."

"A big one."

"Yes, a big one."

"With a large feather."

"Of course."

"And made of the finest leather."

"Sure, leather as well."

Jack ponders for a moment, "I'll still want my old hat back."

I shove him away."Go away, Jack. You are absolutely impossible."

"Improbable." He snaps right back.

"No. I truly believe that you're completely, one hundred percent, impossible."

"Calling me impossible should be improbable if you are an imp. Which you are."

I look at him quizzically before pushing him off the bed.

"What was that for?"

"For being impossible."

"If I am impossible, your an imp."

"At least I'm possible."

"In your own way, love."

"Now you aren't making any sense." I roll my eyes.

"You're saying that as if I was making sense earlier." Jack points out.

"If your right in saying that, than that means your whole self, and thus your nature, doesn't make sense which just proves that you are impossible."

"You would think that after seeing the living dead, you would believe that anything is possible."

"They were under a curse. And you are not. Although you have become a curse on my life."

"Than you should be happy that I am going to hang."

"The only hanging I ever want to see in your life is your portrait on my wall once I have my own home."

"So not only am I a curse on your life, I am also a thing of legend?"

"Are they not the same?"

"You must be planning not to love your children very much if you want to frighten them with a picture of your curse."

"Who said anything about children? I want to frighten guests away so that I won't be obliged to socialize with them."

Knockings on the door suddenly cut off our little repartee and indicate that the visit is over.

"I guess I'll be going now." Jack says, getting to his feet and dusting off his pants. "My audience down below are missing me."

"Go sing them a concert." I tell him, "I want to be able to hear you from here."

"Don't you want to keep your hearing?"

"If it meant I wouldn't have to hear you talking, then I wouldn't mind being deaf."

He grins and goes to the door, opening it. "By the way, nice scars" He says before disappearing.

And for the first time that day, I truly smile.


	27. Chapter 27

The carriage rolls back and forth reminding me of a ship sailing over rough seas. I remember the last time I was in this situation. I was on my way to Norrington's promotion. Although it wasn't too long ago, it feels a lifetime, an age, away.

The carriage slowly rolls to a stop and Father, with a discouraged sigh, leads the way and exits into the warm, early morning sun.

Elizabeth takes this moment of solitude to grasp my hand encouragingly, before following Father.

Knowing full well, that I couldn't possibly stay in the carriage, unfortunately, I grab the skirt of my high-necked gown and step out.

Thankfully, there isn't anyone around but we quickly head it where a multitude of townspeople have shown up. At the arrival of their governor, the crowd turns to face us.

One look at me and shocked whispers swell up over them. I lower my head, self-conscious.

Elizabeth had offered to use powder and cover up the scar on my face but I had refused. I couldn't possibly wear powder every day for the rest of my life. People would soon find out of my scar and then even more gossip would take place, questioning my vanity and character.

No. It would be better that everybody know from the get-go. No hiding. No covering up. Just me, plain and simple. If people were disgusted, if young children cried, it would be their problem, not mine.

Even so, the whispers cut deeply and have to withhold myself from turning away.

We quickly walk between the wall and a row of soldiers, separating us from the rest of the people, until we reach the stone stand where Norrington waits.

Elizabeth and I take our places beside Father who stands beside the Commodore.

Solemnly, we turn to face the gallows where Captain Jack Sparrow stands.

Upon seeing me, he gives a small wave which I return with a pain-filled smile.

Father gives me a disapproving shake of his head but I just ignore him. When it comes to things like pirates, I no longer respect his opinion.

The drums start playing and we all turn our attention to the stand on which the gallows are situated.

"Jack Sparrow" The official starts reading the official proclamation, "Be it known that you have been charged, tried, and convicted, for your willful commission of crimes against the crown. Said crimes being numerous in quantity and sinister in nature, the most egregious of these to be cited herewith: piracy, smuggling..."

"This is wrong." Elizabeth breaks out in disapproval.

"Commodore is bound by the law, as are we all." Father replies with finality.

I bend my ears back to the words of the official.

"...impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy, impersonating a cleric of the Church of England..."

Even through the dire circumstances, I can't help but smile. _That must have been an interesting situation._

"...sailing under false colors, arson, kidnapping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation, and general lawlessness."

Between all these words, I hear a familiar screeching. I lean over and spot a parrot that looks an awful like the parrot that belonged to Cotton, one of the pirates that sailed with Jack.

I notice a man in the crowds whose attention had also been grabbed by the bird. After a look at the colorful parrot, he turns and heads straight for us.

"And for these crimes, you have been sentenced to be, on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul." The official finishes before walking off the stage.

The man reaches us and is revealed to be Will, dressed in all finery, bought with some of the treasure from the Isla de Muerta.

"Governor Swann. Commodore. Anna." He greets us. "Elizabeth, I should have told you every day from the moment I met you." Will takes a breathe, "I love you." He spins on his heal and walks off, back into the crowds.

Father and the Commodore stare at Elizabeth in confusion and Lizzie looks shocked, but I just watch as Will pushes his way through the people, as the drum beats quicken and the noose is tied around Jack's neck.

The Commodore, realizing what Will plans to do, calls for his men.

"I can't breathe!" Elizabeth cries, also noticing the situation, before falling to the floor.

Father and the Commodore turn to her and lean over her, worry marked across their faces but I can't worry about Lizzie just now and my gaze is fixed upon Will, sword unsheathed and shouting for the crowd to part.

The drum beats stop and the executioner pulls the lever, sending Jack through the floor, just as Will throws his sword into the wood of the stand, making a step for Jack to stand on so he doesn't choke.

A smile beams onto my face until Will jumps onto the stand and the executioner takes his axe and takes a swing at Will. Deftly dodging it, Will holds his own under the barrage of fatal swings from the large, burly, man and his razor sharp weapon.

The Commodore, seeing through Lizzie's well thought out trick, gathers a group of his men and pushes his way through the crowd towards the stand where the executioner, having already disarmed Will, lets Jack go after accidentally cutting the rope tied around his neck.

Having no more means of defending himself, Will lunges at the executioner, sending him toppling over the side of the stand, nearly crushing the Commodore and his men.

Jack, having recovered from his fall through the stage floor, cuts through his ropes with the sword and sends Will one of the ends of the rope that had previously been his noose.

The run towards the stairs leading to the edge of the fort, when a triplet of soldiers appear, running full speed towards them. Using the rope, Jack and Will tripping the soldiers before coming face to face with another three, whom they also send sprawling to the ground.

I jump down from the stand into the panicking crowds, despite the desperate pleas from my father to return.

Running through the crowd is difficult as they rush in the opposite direction, trying to get as far away from the mayhem as possible. A wall of guards follow them, herding them into a corner, and not letting anyone in or out.

I almost get trapped in the herd of people but manage to sneak under the guards and ignore them as they call for me to come back.

I run up the stairs where I had last seen Jack and Will disappear.

I reach the top where a group of twenty or so soldiers surround the two men, their bayonets pointing and their expressions grim.

The Commodore pushes his way through his men, followed closely behind by Father and Lizzie.

Norrington sneers as he holds his sword out at Will's neck, "I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill-conceived escape attempt, but not from you."

Father looks completely betrayed, "On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency . And this is how you thank me? By throwing in your lot with him? He's a pirate!"

"And a good man." Will argues, throwing his sword to the ground.

Jack turns to the guards surrounding them and mouths, _That's me, _proudly.

"If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it." Will says, "At least my conscience will be clear."

"You forget your place, Turner." The Commodore says, anger clearing sketched upon his features.

"It's right here." Will says, with certainty. "Between you and Jack."

Elizabeth speaks up, "As is mine." She says taking her place beside Will and grasping his hand.

"Elizabeth!" Father looks aghast but turns to the guards, "Lower your weapons. For goodness' sake, put them down!"

The guns are hesitantly lowered and the men look slightly confused.

The pain etched in Norrington's eyes is heart-breaking, "So this is where your heart truly lies, then?" He says to Elizabeth, trying his hardest to hide his feelings.

"It is." She confirms.

Jack suddenly pipes up from behind the couple, "Well, I'm actually feeling rather good about this." He says walking around to Father and getting right into his face, "I think we've all arrived at a very special place, eh? Spiritually. Ecumenically. Grammatically."

He moves on to the Commodore, "I want you to know that I was rooting for you, mate. Know that." Norrington just looks disgusted.

Jack then faces Lizzie, "Elizabeth, it would never have worked between us, darling. I'm sorry.

He walks up to the final stairs of the fort, before turning back. "Anna,"

"Thank goodness." I say with a smile, "I thought I had been forgotten."

Jack grins, "Just know that if you ever want to learn to loot pillage or impersonate a cleric, come find me. You have the real makings of a pirate. You even drink rum like one."

Father spins towards me, furiously and I can only blush and grin embarrassed, knowing that a sever conversation will be taking place as soon as we return home.

"Nice hat." Jack finally says to Will.

Will look up at his luxurious new, feathered hat and grins with pride.

Jack jumps up to the level and turns towards the crowd of soldiers surrounding him, slowly backing up towards the sheer edge of the fort. "Friends! This is the day that you will always remember as the day that-" Jack suddenly trips over the small wall that borders the edge and plummets out of site.

Everyone races to the edge and peers over, only to see him land with a large splash into the water.

"Idiot!" Gillette says with a contemptuous smile, "He has nowhere to go but back to the noose."

"Sail ho!" A sentry suddenly calls, pointing to the shadows of the cliff opposite the bay, where the _Black Peal _suddenly appears.

"What is your plan of action?" Gillette asks the Commodore.

Norrington looks speechless.

"Sir?"

"Perhaps on the rare occasion," Father cuts in, to the relief of Norrington, "Pursuing the right course demands an act of piracy, piracy itself can be the right course?"

Norrington smiles slightly at the advise before walking back down the steps. "Mr. Turner." He calls.

Will and Elizabeth turn away from where they had been watching Jack. Lizzie's face is filled with worry but Will says, "I will accept the consequences of my actions."

Reluctantly leaving Elizabeth at the edge of the battlement, Will walks down to face the Commodore.

Unsheathing the sword that Will had made for him at his promotion, Norrington holds it out in front of them both, "This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life."

Surprised, Will can only thank him before turning before Norrington turns with his soldiers to leave the fort.

"Commodore!" Gillette calls, stopping them in their tracks. "What about Sparrow?"

"Well, I think we can afford to give him _one_ day's head start." Norrington says, a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth, before leading his men away.

Father turns to Will and Lizzie, "So, this is the path you've chosen, is it?" He doesn't look disappointed. More sad, than anything, "After all, he _is_ a blacksmith."

"No." Lizzie look up lovingly at Will and carefully removes his hat, "He's a pirate."

Father does the closest thing I have ever seen him do to a roll of eyes before escorting me down the steps and back into the courtyard of the fort. I sneak a glance back only to see them locked in a loving embrace.

My cheeks reddening, I quickly swivel my head back to face the front.

Father quickly leads me out of the empty fort and out to where out carriage is waiting for us, to bring us back home.

He cordially opens the door for me, and with a sickingly sweet smile, says ."Now, lets talk about the rum."


	28. Chapter 28

"I am going to miss you." Lizzie says, taking a seat on my bed. The afternoon sun shines in through the open window, the slight breeze just strong enough to rustle the few papers sitting on the vanity. Father had the maids start my packing but I took over, feeling strange to have others serve me in such a trivial way.

I look down at my open luggage, before taking out a thin, flowered skirt.

"No, you won't." I reply lightheartedly, replacing the thin skirt for a thick wool skirt into my baggage, "You have your wedding to plan. You will be kept so busy that you won't have time to miss me."

"You know that you're wrong." Lizzie says, "We haven't been apart since I was kidnapped and before that, we were always together."

"So you're saying that your kidnapping was a practice for now?"

"Well, maybe a bit. But it was different that time. Neither of us made the choice to leave."

"How many times do I have to tell you." I sigh, "I am not _leaving_ you. I am just going to start a real life. And so are you with Will."

"But we might not see each other for a long time."

"I'll be back for your wedding, I promise. And I will be trading here at Port Royal sometimes."

"Yes, but it isn't like I'll be able to talk to you about any troubles I have."

"You will have Will for that." I point out.

"It isn't the same."

I turn to her and sit beside her, for the moment forgetting about packing.

"I am going to miss you as well. But to be perfectly honest, I won't have too much time to think of it. Being an apprentice to a merchant isn't exactly a job that gives you much time to think of anything but navigation, prices, demand, and supply."

Elizabeth wraps her arms around me, "My little sister is all grown up."

I pull her off of me. "I am only an inch shorter than you."

"Even if you grow to be a giant, you'll always be my _little _sister." She replies, patting my head demeaningly.

"And that is one of the reason why I am leaving."

Elizabeth looks confused.

"Here, I am just Elizabeth Swann's younger, rambunctious sister. I am not really my own person. I am your friend, a mischief maker, and Father's thorn in the side."

"You are not a thorn to Father."

"Why do you think that he is letting me leave?" I ask her, "It surely isn't to let myself be my own person and it isn't because he believes that the knowledge I will gain will be in any way helpful."

"Father is letting you go because he realizes that you are not his little girl anymore and that he can't control you. He might not approve, but he recognizes your wants and needs, and letting you go into the world while still obeying the law, is the best compromise for you both."

"Compromise. Why don't I believe you?" I scoff.

"Because you're stubborn and cynical?"

"No... because I don't bother with the cute and loving dream world. I see life as its true gritty self that needs to be treated as an enemy until proven friend."

Elizabeth pulls back, scrutinizing me through slitted eyes. "You have changed a lot." She says, her eyebrows pulled together and her lips dipping down into a slight frown. "You have grown up. You aren't the happy-go-lucky girl I used to know that would do strange things just for the sake of doing them."

"You're right. I have gone from strange straight to crazy." I say with a grin.

Lizzie chuckles, "Maybe you haven't changed that much."

"Except for the physical." I say, referring to the scars which I now show openly, wearing them proudly as a badge of honor of the difficulties and hardships I had endured.

"You really are fine with the scars now, aren't you?"

"Actually, I quite like them. They keep the shallow away and is a public display of my character. I haven't been bothered by any vain young men or women since coming home."

A knock on the door has us jumping in surprise, Lizzie almost falling of the bed.

I snort in laughter and hurry to open the door, revealing Tula.

"Miss, there is a young man at the door asking for you." She says.

"Did he reveal his name?

"Yes Miss. He introduced himself as a Thomas Barrington."

I stumble back, Lizzie jumping to her feet and rushing towards me to steady me.

"Are you all right, miss?" Tula asks, concern in her eyes.

"I am fine." I gasp.

"Please show Mr. Barrington to the parlor." Elizabeth says, thankfully taking charge. "And ask him to wait patiently."

Tula hesitantly leaves, shutting the door behind her.

"He is here." I say mostly to myself, finding it hard to breathe. My head starts pounding and I can't decipher all the messages both my mind and heart are sending me.

Lizzie gently leads me to a bed and sits me down, before kneeling at my feet.

"He is here." I repeat, my mind only concentrated on those three words.

"Yes." Elizabeth says, almost as shocked as I am.

"I know why he is here." I say to myself.

"Why?"

"Why else would a man come and visit a girl that he loves him and that loves him?"

Realization hits Lizzie's face and she can only shake her head in disbelief, "Will you go see him?"

"You go." I say.

Elizabeth is taken aback, "I think you are the mad one between the two of us. I barely know this man! I have never even spoken a single word to him. What would I say to him? No. _You_ must go. You mustn't keep him waiting."

"I can't do it, Lizzie." I say, my eyes wide with fear, "I can't look at him. After everything I've done? I can't walk down those stairs knowing full-well that I am about to cause him great pain!"

"Yes, you can." Elizabeth says forcefully, getting to her feet, "You have run away from home to save your sister. You have sailed with a crew of pirates. You have witnessed a close friend die. You have survived being marooned on an island even though you don't remember most of it. And you have been in a battle with cursed pirates. You can do anything."

Her words encouraging me, I get to my feet as well determined, before nervousness seizes me. "Will you come with me?"

"No." She replies but quickly continues when she sees the fright and disappointment on my face, "This is something you must do on your own. If worst should come, call, and I will come."

I nod, uncertainly, and slowly walk out of the room, not looking back once.

_What would he say?_

_What would I say?_

_What could I possibly do to prevent any and all pain?_

I make my way to the top of the stairs, before slowly and carefully stepping down, knowing full-well that every sound made on the stairs could be heard almost anywhere in the house.

I cringe every time my foot hits a wooden step, knowing that Thomas can hear me coming. He knows I am going to talk to him. For some reason, it makes me feel more insecure and less in control.

Finally making it to the bottom of the steps, I turn to the left, past the front door and down a short hallway before facing the large, wooden double doors to my left.

I carefully place my ear on the door and I can hear someone pacing back and forth in the room beyond.

It suddenly stops and I push my ear harder against the door and quiet by breathing, wondering if I was just not listening hard enough.

The door swings wide open and I tumble into the room with a yelp and landing in a heap on the floor.

I jump to my feet, painfully aware that my hair is a mess and my shirt sleeve now has a large rip in it.

I turn and face the door opener, Thomas, who looks just as shocked as I, his jaw open and his eyes wide. His eyes trail the white scar running down my face.

"Hello, Thomas." I say, whipping my hair out of my face, trying to look more in control than I actually am.

"Hello, Anna." He replies, just as awkwardly as I. "What happened to you?" He asks, worry filling every syllable of his question.

"Nothing," I say, "Just a little confrontation with a slice of wood. It apparently thought my face needed some visual interest."

Thomas' lips curve into a small smile.

"What would you like to speak to me about?" I say, surprised at how calm and normal my voice sounds considering the circumstances.

Thomas seems to need a few moments to gather his thought and I take this time to take his appearance in. He has actually changed quite a bit since I last saw him. His hair has been cut clean and short and he has been obviously been kept clean for a while. His face clean shaven and he is also wearing newer clothing, looking quite like the middle class gentleman.

"Anna." He finally says, but doesn't continue, as if words escaping his mind as they travelled down to his mouth.

The realization that I am facing him after all this time, hits me like a wall and I don't respond, my heart beat starting to racing and my mind trying to pick out the right words to say.

"I missed you." He continues. "You have no idea how much."

I ignore this outspokenness off amiability.

"How did you find me?" I ask cooly.

Sadness crosses his face at the small slap to his face. "I heard the news that you were going to travel as a merchant's apprentice and I needed to talk to you before you left and there would be no easy way of contacting you." He says, stiffly, before letting silence descend momentarily into the room.

"I see you've been doing well." I say, doing my best not to enter the awkward silence, blame and guilt weighing heavily in the air.

"Yes, I have." He replies monotonously, obviously trying not to let any emotion show just yet. "After you left me on the island, I found work with an old inn keeper. He made me the manager of the inn as he was too old to continue his work." He says, stiffly.

"That is good." I reply, glancing around the room, anywhere but at him. Suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed, I grab a chair and take a seat before motioning Thomas to do the same.

He quickly closes the door and sits down as well.

"It is good to hear that you have been doing well." I say, "Now, I don't feel so bad about leaving you at the town."

Thomas, doesn't reply but, resting his elbows on his knees, lowers his head into his hands, rocking back and forth as if battling with something on the inside.

After a minute or so, I can't take it anymore, "Thomas? Are you all right?" I ask, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

He looks up sharply and takes a deep breathe, "I still love you."

I blink. Even though I had been expecting something of the sort, I am still taken aback by the randomness of the phrase.

"I am set to inherit the old inn since the old man is childless and I have a small home across the street from the inn."

I nod, impatiently waiting for him to get to his point.

"Well, what I am saying, I guess, is will you marry me?"

My eyes widen and I lean as far back into my chair as I dare.

I had expected a declaration of love, a forgiveness of sins, and the admittance that I was still wanted. A marriage proposal, was completely unthought of.

"I can't" I state, but almost wish that I hadn't said the words. Thomas's face, crumbles into a confused, chaotic, painfulness that is making my heart break.

"I see." He says uncomfortably, straightening out in his chair and looking to want to be anywhere but in my home, sitting across from me, and having this conversation.

Seeing his heart ripping on his sleeve, I try to justify my words, "Thomas, it isn't that I don't want to. I do. But not at this moment."

"Why? What is wrong about now?" He says, the pain leaking into his voice, "I thought that now would be best, before you left and got caught up into a new life, too busy to even consider returning to me."

I laugh halfheartedly, "This is the worst time you could have probably picked!"

Thomas looks bewildered and I continue, "I am about to start a new adventure in life, this one voluntary. I have been planning and looking forwards to this for months, ever since I came back home. I know that I am of age to be married but I can't. I can't promise myself to a life of caring for others while I still long for something else. I have to see to my dreams fulfilled before I can fully commit to others'."

Thomas slowly gets to his feet, as if regretting the action every moment he does it.

"It isn't that I don't love you." I say, "I do. I am just not ready yet to settle down. I want to be with you, but just not yet. I need to live the life I have always dreamed of, before it gets out of reach.

"I am trying to understand, Anna. I really am." Thomas says, his voice soft and laced with misery.

"I'm sorry." I say. "So very, very, sorry."

Thomas turns to leave but before he makes it out of the room he has a thought and turns back, "I love you too, Anna. And I will wait as long as I can. But I can't promise forever."

I nod in understanding, "I am sorry for hurting you, Thomas." I say, tears flowing freely and soundlessly from my downcast eyes, "I don't mean to. I don't want to."

"Don't apologize for your feelings." Thomas scolds lightly before his voice fills up with agony . "My only wish is that we had stayed together during those days all those months ago. Then this conversation would never have taken place."

A sob escapes my lips and Thomas looks regretful of having been the cause of the tears. However, he doesn't move from his location at the door, but just watches as I unsuccessfully try to control my weeping.

"Goodbye, Anna." He says, once I've quieted down, "I hope to see you again someday. Maybe as future man and wife." With that, he turns and departs, leaving me in the empty room, my thought and my sobs as my only companions.

The early morning wind cuts sharply into my face and the seeps through my clothes, prickling my sin despite the thick wool cape I wear draped upon my shoulders. Elizabeth had voiced her confusion as to why I would be bringing a London winter cape with me when the days where unbearably hot.

"For early morning escapades." I had told her, " I don't want to freeze before the day even starts.

"There you are, miss." The servant says, placing my final trunk onto the dock, before hopping onto the back of the carriage. The place is buzzing with activity, even at this time in the morning. sailors and workers mill about, loading the _Flightless _with provisions and supplies to trade.

"Thank you." I tell him before being distracted by Father and Elizabeth who had just completed their little tour of the ship that will be my home for the foreseeable future.

"It is a quaint little ship." Father states, offering his seal of approval, "Well made, with a lot of storage space yet not extravagant in the slightest; very practical."

"Yes." Elizabeth agrees, "I do believe you'll be quite happy on it as long as you don't get sea-sick and start getting home-sick for land."

"I doubt sickness will be something I'll get too acquainted with." I reply.

"Is that all you're bringing?" Father asks, looking at my small pile of three trunks.

"Yes." I say, "I won't be going to any sort of social gathering unless you count the rowdy dances on deck, and the gambling and drinking."

Father gapes at me and I grin, "Don't worry, Father. You know me better than that."

"That is just the thing, I don't."

I give him a quick hug and kiss him on the cheek, "I'll be fine. After all I've gone through, this will be a walk in the park."

"Well, I'll miss you," He says, returning the hug before returning into the warmth of the carriage.

"I'll miss you as well." Elizabeth says, taking my hands. "Are you sure you are making the right choice, with Thomas and all?"

"The right choice for whom?" I say. "I am doing the right thing for me. I have to do this before I get stuck in the married life."

"I for one, cannot wait to be 'stuck'."

I wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her into an embrace, "You will make a wonderful wife and mother." I say, "I can't wait for your wedding day."

"I am already impatient to have you home." She says.

"It is only a few months until your wedding day." I say, "You'll see me then."

She nods and I notice tears building up in her eyes. She quickly brushes them away before giving another quick hug and returning to the carriage which quickly departs back up the hill into town.

I turn to face the _Flightless_, my new home. I watch as a single sailor walks up to me and gives me a short bow, "Hello, miss. My name is Benjamin. I am the first mate of the _Flightless._"

"Hello, Benjamin." I say with a smile at the man, "I am Annalee Swann, but please, call me Anna."

Benjamin grins, "Let me help you with your luggage." He grabs the two larger ones and I take the smallest.

He leads the way up the plank and onto the bustling ship, where men dart to and fro, organizing equipment and storing away necessities into the store rooms.

Making sure that I am still following him, he disappears down into the hull and I quickly follow, narrowly missing a bundle of rope being thrown across the deck.

I follow Benjamin carefully, the sun not yet penetrating the ship as deep as we are. He finally stops in front of a door and opens it.

He walks into a small, clean, well-organized room and places the luggages carefully on the bed, "Since we are a small ship with a small crew, we have no need for a Second Mate. So this will be your quarters. It is closer to the crew's chamber than the captain or I would like but we've given specific orders that none disturb you and have outfitted the door with a lock that can only be opened by one of three keys."

He hands me a chain with a single iron key hanging from the end, "You have one and both the captain and I have one in case of emergencies."

I take it and quickly slip it on.

"We will be pulling out of dock in a couple hours, right after we feed the crew. The captain requested that you have the meal with him in an hour and then we are to discuss the course of the ship for the next week. Until then, you are free to roam around and disturb the crew as much as you would like." He says, cracking a smile.

I thank him, returning the grin and he backs out into the hallway shutting the door behind him.

I quickly unpack, placing all my clothing into the small wooden dresser in the corner of the room before shoving the empty luggages under the cot.

I don't waste any time and quickly retrace my steps until I reach the main deck where workers are still scurrying about.

I keep climbing until I reach the upper deck, where the wheel is situated. I stand behind it and look up over the ship. Although small, it is well made and organized. The crew seem kind and clean enough and the Captain and the First Mate have proven to be kind, considerate men. Although maybe not as adventurous as my last journey, this one might turn out to be more exciting.

I grab the wheel and spinning it gently back and forth, I look out into the never-ending sea.

Jack was right. A ships is freedom. It isn't the crew that mans it. It isn't the sails that drive it. It isn't the wheel that directs it. And it sure isn't the wood that supports it. A ship is completely, absolutely, and utterly... freedom.

_Although I do not wish it, this is where the story ends for now. This is where you must leave me and this is where I must leave you. I wish it could go on forever but it can't be so. It is, after all, my story and I still have yet to live it. _


End file.
